Falling Into You
by Caught In A Simple Game
Summary: Ryan Wolfe just wanted to take her to dinner. Hostage situations, hunting out alleged murderers, falling for her ... he didn't expect any of that to happen.
1. Chapter 1

-1_A/N: This is my first CSI Fic, so I hope you like how it's getting started off! It will probably focus more on the relationship than any CSI work, but I'll do my best to make it interesting. I'd appreciate feedback! Enjoy. _

Ryan Wolfe entered the bar and took a relatively isolated seat. Today had been an especially hard day at the crime lab, and he just wanted to unwind. The waitress, knowing him as a regular by now, brought him a beer in the bottle. He gave her a small smile as a thank you, and took a large gulp.

"Rough day, Wolfe?" she asked.

"The worst. Thanks, Heather," Ryan replied.

"Let me know if you need anything else."

Ryan watched Heather walk away, then trained his focus on the empty seat across from him. The harsh pep talk he had received from Horatio Caine earlier in the day echoed in his mind; the last thing he wanted - or needed, really - was to have his career on the line. Although his mistake had been an honest one, it had nearly cost the entire team murder conviction. Considering his usual attention to detail, the mistake should never have been made in the first place. Still, he felt Horatio could have been less harsh about the situation. He swallowed down the rest of his beer, and told Heather to keep them coming; if he was lucky, he could drown away this day, then wake up to a clean slate tomorrow.

Several beers and maybe a couple of shots later, Ryan had moved away from his isolated table and joined the rest of the crowd at the bar. Heather had cut him off earlier in the night, but the alcohol was still doing its job. Many of the attendees that night seemed to recognize him from one media piece or another, and he found himself surrounded by beautiful women before he could ask for even one of them to join him.

"Take it easy, Wolfe," Heather cautioned. "Don't go telling war stories and spill more information than you should."

"Nah, no, for sure. No war stories, ladies. Top secret, all of it." He flashed them a smile, and this apparently was enough for his admirers to accept that they wouldn't be regaled with any of the CSI's adventures that evening. One woman excused herself to the ladies' room, leaving a gap for Ryan to see out into the bar. His eyes settled on a woman of maybe 23, sitting by herself just down the bar. Her dark hair and petite figure immediately drew him in, and he excused himself from the harem of groupies to approach her.

"Care to join us?" he asked, only slurring a little.

"And shake up that nice blonde-haired, big-bosomed trend you have going there? No, thanks." The woman turned her gaze back to the drink in front of her. Ryan looked her up and down, and couldn't help but feel a challenge. It wasn't too often he was turned down when approaching a woman.

"Do you know who I am?"

"I know exactly who you are. You're Ryan Wolfe, the cockiest CSI in Miami, quite possibly in the world."

"Do I know you from somewhere?" Her words had struck a chord with him, and she seemed very familiar now. His brain racked through a million memories at once, but he couldn't place her.

She seemed to balk at first, then regained her composure. "No, you don't. You're thinking of someone else."

"The confidence in your statement makes me think I do know you."

The young woman shook her head. "I'm very good at remembering people. We've never met."

"I would be better at this if I hadn't been drinking for the last couple of hours. I'm positive I know you from somewhere, though. This is what's going to happen: I am going to go home, right now, and sleep. I am going to wake up in the morning, stone sober. If I don't remember who you are at that point, I will figure it out by the end of the day. Then, I will find your name in the phonebook, call you, and ask you out to dinner." Ryan put on a smug smile, thinking he had her completely hooked.

"That's all very Trip Fontaine of you, Mr. Wolfe," she said, leaning in close to him, as if to whisper in his ear. "But my number's not listed."

With that, she shouldered her purse and hopped off the barstool, leaving Ryan completely dumbfounded.

-----

Ryan woke up the next morning to the sound of his unrelenting alarm. He reached over and shut it off without even opening his eyes. Making the transition from his stomach to his back, he ran his hands through his ears before finally opening his eyes. He silently thanked God for Heather; if she hadn't cut him off at a decent time, his head would be pounding, instead of having just that annoying little twinge at his temple.

_The girl. _While replaying the previous night's events in his mind, he remembered speaking with her. As he sat up and stretched, still trying to come to complete awareness, he could feel her identity on the tip of his tongue. He got up and padded to the bathroom. He turned on the shower, then ran the cold water from the sink faucet. The water felt refreshing on his face, and he tried to will the girl's identity to the front of his mind. In the two minutes that they had conversed, she had gone from a challenge to someone he was genuinely intrigued by. Just before undressing to step in to the shower, it hit him like a truck out of nowhere. He ran to the bedroom and phoned the crime lab.

"Yeah, this is Ryan Wolfe. I am going to be in the office in less than an hour, and I need everything we have on the Ellen Alexander murder on my desk when I get there."

-----

Ryan rushed in to the lab without a hello for anyone. He went straight to his desk, happy to see a box marked "Alexander, Ellen" in bold letters waiting for him. He slipped his keys into his pocket and removed the lid from the box. He sifted through the different folders of documents until he came upon the source list he was looking for on the case. He set it in front of him on the case and ran his finger down the list until he found the name he was looking for.

_"When did you last see Travis Grey?" Ryan questioned the dark-haired young woman in front of him. _

_"I haven't seen or heard from Travis in . . . Maybe three weeks." _

_"He is your boyfriend, right? Why so long?" Horatio inquired_.

_"He _was_ my boyfriend. I found a stack of pictures in his apartment of him with another girl, and they were all dated from the weekend before, when he told me he had been out of town on business."_

_"How do you know he wasn't?" Ryan asked. _

_"I helped him pick out everything in that apartment. I think I would recognize it."_

_"It was just a question."_

_"It was just an answer," she snapped back. _

_"Hey, I am the one with the badge here. So far the statements you're giving point to you being suspect in the murder of Ellen Alexander," Ryan told her, raising his voice a little. He slammed pictures of the victim laying on Alexx's exam table down in front of the girl being questioned, and she gasped at the sight, having to look away. _

_"All right, Wolfe, I don't think she was quite ready for that," Horatio warned. _

_"Wasn't ready for what? To see a girl her age beaten and battered and then having her throat slit so that she probably bled to death?" Ryan continued. "Did it make you angry when you saw those pictures? Did you kill Ellen Alexander because she was having an affair with your boyfriend?"_

_"No! I punched him, then I left. I don't stick around for that kind of thing. I will tell you this though. On the back of the pictures she was in, it had the date of her death in red ink. Go back to the apartment, you'll see it. Then you will find pictures of me with a date two weeks from today on the back in the same red ink."_

_"We need to take her into protective care. Get a place for her to stay lined up, contact her work, all of that. Make sure she is watched day and night until we get this guy," Horatio told Ryan. _

_"H, you can't be serious. Shouldn't we check out her story first?"_

_"If it's that much work, don't worry about it. I would rather have to wait for him to be caught than be under the protective care of the cockiest CSI in Miami." _

Ryan replayed the scene in his mind over and over. She certainly was a firecracker. He checked and saw that she was, in fact, never put under any protective measures. Double checking his calendar, he realized today was two weeks from that day. The Alexander case had yet to catch Travis Grey so as to question their top suspect. Making way for his car, still without a word to any of his teammates, he phoned Calleigh.

"Ryan, what is with you?" she asked. "You seem so frantic."

"On the Alexander case, I need you to call a name on the source list on my desk. If she says she's not at home, get her to come in immediately. If she is at home, tell her to stay put. I am on my way."

"Why do you want me to call?"

"Because she doesn't like me."

"Fair enough. What's the name?"

"Berlyn Vera."

-----

Ryan kept his hand over his gun as he walked quietly buy quickly up the steps to the second floor of the apartment building. He found apartment 2C and, still keeping his gun within reach, knocked on the door. Calleigh had already called to inform him that she couldn't get Berlyn on her cell phone, and there was no home phone listed. Ryan knocked again, but there was still no answer. He saw the curtain move a bit behind the bay window at the front of the apartment, but couldn't make out a person. A loud _thud_ from inside the apartment fired Ryan's instincts. He drew his gun out from it's holster and kicked the door open.

"Ryan Wolfe, I'm with the crime lab. I just need to take Ms. Vera in for some questioning," he yelled out, hoping this would go easy, but not expecting it to. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, and checked the caller ID before answering it.

"Calleigh, I need you to call me in back up to the Vera girl's apartment. She's here, and I think Travis Grey is here, too."

"Will do," Calleigh replied. Ryan flipped his phone shut and continued his way into the apartment. He cleared the living room, and then the kitchen. Going back through the living room, he was preparing to kick his way into the bedroom, same as he had to do with the front door, when he heard a small whimper from the bathroom.

"Travis? Come on out, Travis. You and me and Berlyn, we can go down to the lab and just talk. This doesn't have to be messy," Ryan offered.

"Get out of here, man, or I swear, I'll kill her," came the gruff reply.

"I'm going to open the bathroom door, just so we can see who we're talking to." Ryan slowly pushed the door back, exposing the sight of suspect and hostage. Travis was standing with Berlyn in front of him, in the bathtub, and had a gun to her temple.

"You need to leave," Travis warned. "I've already taken a couple good hits to her, it would be no problem to just pull this trigger."

Ryan took the chance to look Berlyn over. Travis wasn't lying; she had a laceration above her left eye, a bruise under the same eye, and another cut by her right eye. Her arms were covered in bruises, and she was struggling to stand.

"You don't want to do that," Ryan directed. "You shoot her, and I have to shoot you. My week's already been rough. See, I got in trouble at work yesterday, so I went to the bar to make myself feel better, you know, drown out the troubles. I met this beautiful girl, even had the same features as your girl there, and she turned me down. I told her I was going to call her tonight and ask her to dinner, but if I shoot you, I'll end up standing her up. You know how crazy women can get when you stand them up."

"That's why I'm going to take care of this one," Travis replied. "I knew she found those pictures of Ellen, and I was going to waste her for that. Then she had to go and hit me for cheating on her though, and that just pushed it. It could've been simple, a shot in the head while she slept. She never would've known the difference. She had to get violent though, and so did I."

"Look, Travis, I'd really like to be buddies with you, but you're making that hard to do. Give me the girl, let her go, and you and I can work the rest out." Ryan kept his gun focused on Travis, but if he did have to shoot, it would be hard to miss Berlyn. He couldn't pull his trigger on the suspect unless she was out of the way.

"She's not getting out of this alive," Travis told Ryan. "You can leave and not have her blood on your preppy little get up there, or you can stay and watch. I shoot her, you shoot me, fine. She'll be dead, and that's all that matters to me."

Ryan heard his back up officers coming through the door, and that's when he had his opportunity. Travis turned to the side to point his gun at the newly arrived officers, in and doing so, pulled Berlyn with him, out of the way. Ryan took that chance to fire a bullet into Travis's leg. The wound wasn't enough to do permanent damage, save for a nasty scar, but it did bring Travis Grey to the ground, releasing his hold on Berlyn. As other officers swooped in to handcuff Travis and take him into custody, Ryan holstered his gun and stepped in to pull Berlyn out of the tub. She was still struggling to stand, and was now looking like she would pass out at any minute. Worried about head wounds, Ryan picked her up and carried her out of the bathroom. Entering the living room, he saw Horatio Caine. From Horatio's side of the conversation, he knew his superior was calling for an ambulance.

"My head …" Berlyn muttered.

"I know," Ryan said, laying her down on the couch, then stroking her hair. "I know it hurts. The ambulance is on the way."


	2. Chapter 2

Ryan watched the ambulances speed off down the road, and let out a deep breath. One was taking his murder suspect to the hospital for treatment of his gunshot wound, and then a police officer would escort Travis to the lab for questioning. The other ambulance carried Berlyn to the hospital to have all of her wounds checked out. He hoped and prayed that there was no serious damage done. She would be key in this case; he knew, though, that this was not the only reason he was concerned for her health.

"You want to explain to me what all of this was?" Horatio asked, suddenly appearing next to Ryan.

"Look, H, I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have gone in without clearance, but I just kind of stumbled on this, and --"

"You just stumbled on to it? Ryan, why don't you make a smart career move and just tell me the complete truth."

"Fine," Ryan sighed. "I went to the bar after our little talk last night. She was there, but I couldn't remember how I remembered her. It finally hit me this morning, and I had told her I was going to call her and ask her out, but then when I was looking through the Alexander files, that information came back to me, about the dates on the photos, and I just had this bad feeling about it."

"That story has just enough of you in it for me to find it true. Well done," Horatio congratulated.

"Thanks," Ryan said, somewhat surprised.

"This doesn't let you off for any other mistake. I want you to keep that in mind. I'm going to put you on this case, with Calleigh because I know she's already involved. When Travis Grey comes in, you get whatever information you have to for this conviction, got it?"

"Got it," Ryan agreed. He turned back to the apartment to start collecting evidence, just as Calleigh pulled up with an evidence kit in hand.

"Sounds like you've had an exciting morning," she commented.

"Yeah, I have," Ryan replied. "Um, it's apartment 2C. I think the perp's gun is still in there. Let's see if we can match it to any marks on Ellen Alexander's body."

"I have done this before," Calleigh smiled.

"I'm sorry, Cal. Just a little shaken up, I guess. I'll be all right."

"You act like you've never been under pressure like this before. Are you sure you're the same guy who took a nail to the eye?"

"I'm fine. Really. Let's see what we can find here, shall we?"

-----

"Visiting hours are over," a hard-faced nurse informed Ryan when he went to see Berlyn later that evening.

"Only by five minutes," Ryan pointed out.

"Over," the nurse repeated, more sternly this time. Absentmindedly, Ryan laid the flowers he had brought with him on the counter, then pulled out his badge.

"I'm with CSI. Berlyn Vera has key information that I need to bring in the bad guy."

"She came in with the bad guy. The bullet wound in room 6 with the two lovely police officers standing in front of it, just in case the handcuffs keeping him restrained to the bed don't do the trick."

"Okay, well, I need the information so we can convict him," Ryan tried. The nurse put a hand on her hip, and looked him over, then noticed the flowers on the counter.

"Do you bring flowers to every witness?" she asked, beginning to give in.

Ryan pulled them behind his back. "Only ones that I've been a jerk to."

The nurse finally nodded. "It'll be our little secret."

Ryan thanked her quickly, then headed to Berlyn's room at the other end of the hall. When he reached the door marked 15, he knocked lightly before going in. He made sure the door didn't close too loudly behind him, and slowly rounded the corner to the bed. The cuts on her face now looked smaller since they had been cleaned up, but the bruise was worse. Her noted the vitals on the heart monitor and breathed a sigh of relief that they were strong.

"If my scans all come back okay, they said I can go home tomorrow. I've got a couple of cracked ribs, but they say that shock and trauma is most of what made me so out of it," Berlyn spoke up.

"I thought you were asleep. I'm glad you're okay," Ryan said. "Um, I brought you these."

"Thanks," she said, reaching out to smell the flowers. He noticed a hint of a smile play on her lips, and it made him feel a little better.

"How do you feel?" he asked, standing next to her bedside. He fought the urge to intertwine her fingers with his.

"Okay I guess, considering Travis is right down the hall."

"Berlyn, I'm sorry I doubted you when we brought you in to try to find him. If I would've gone with the protective order, this may not have happened. I wish you would have said something last night."

"You were drunk enough, and attracted enough, you probably would've just taken me home with you," Berlyn joked.

Ryan was glad to see her joking around. "You're probably right. I'm sorry about the come-on. You have to admit though, I did a good job finding you, like I said I would."

"That you did." She struggled to sit up a little bit further, and he helped her. "Thanks. So, Ryan Wolfe. What questions can I answer for you now? I know you didn't come up here just to bring me apology flowers."

"They're not apology flowers. They're get better soon flowers," Ryan corrected. "And I only have one question, but you should already know what it is."

"I should? Maybe it was that blow to my face. Maybe it did rattle my brain more than they thought."

He did what he had been fighting not to do, and took her hand in his. "Will you go to dinner with me when you get out of here?"

Berlyn smiled. This man was certainly persistent! He wasn't at all unattractive, and he did save her life. When he had first walked in to the room the first time they met, she had hoped to catch his eye -- until he opened his mouth. She had to admit that the words that had left his mouth since then were much nicer, and seemed to be sincere. If he could still want to take her dinner in the shape she was in now, and knowing at least some of her past, who was she to turn him down?

"What are you thinking?" Ryan prompted when she took too long to answer.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I guess I zoned out for a minute. Ryan, I would like very much to go to dinner with you."

-----

It was three more days before Berlyn was up to going out. She was released from the hospital the next day, but her cracked ribs were so sore when she got home, she had asked Ryan if he didn't mind if they put their date off a couple more nights. He obliged her, and told her to call again if she needed to postpone their night further. He was running late from work, so Ryan opted to have Berlyn meet him at the restaurant.

"I would normally do the gentleman thing and pick you up," he promised, "I just don't want us to miss our reservations."

"That's fine," Berlyn agreed. She got the name of the place before hanging up with him, starting to feel butterflies in her stomach.

Ryan approached the host that night, gave his name, and asked if anyone was waiting for him yet. He tried to glance into the restaurant, but he didn't see Berlyn anywhere. The host took a moment to look at the guest list, then shook his head no.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wolfe, I don't believe your other party has arrived yet. The table you requested is being cleared off and set up as you asked, so if you would like to wait in the front for a few minutes, feel free."

Ryan only nodded an acceptance, then turned his eyes to the door. He nervously fidgeted with the cuffs of his sleeve and tried to take some deep breaths. He was trying to recall the last time he had been this anxious for a date when the door swung open and Berlyn walked in; Ryan was breathtaken. She had chosen to wear a deep red, knee length dress, leaving her hair down so it fell most of the way down her back in large waves. She smiled as she got closer to him. The bruise and cuts on her face were still present, but all that mattered to Ryan is that she was there.

"I'm sorry, I'm late. I couldn't decide what to wear," she blushed.

"No problem at all," Ryan returned. "Hungry?"

"I think so. I haven't been as hungry as in the last couple days as I usually am, but I think my appetite is coming back."

"That's a good sign. Excuse me," he turned to the host. "Are we ready to be seated?"

"Let me check." The host excused himself for a minute to check on their table, giving Ryan the chance to drink in Berlyn's beauty again.

"You look beautiful," Ryan told her, the compliment coming out on a breath.

"Thank you," Berlyn replied. "I bought this dress a couple months back, thinking I would never have the chance to wear it, but I couldn't pass it up."

"I'm glad you didn't." He locked his gaze with her and watched her face heat slightly. The host arrived then, saving Berlyn from the moment. He motioned for them to follow him, and Ryan led Berlyn by the hand to the table. When he had called to make the reservation, he had requested a round booth table in the back, and asked that there be two white roses in front of Berlyn's seat.

"Oh, Ryan …" Berlyn didn't know what to say as she slid into the table. She had already found the restaurant beautiful just from the front lobby, but this was so much more than she had imagined.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"I love it. Thank you. For everything. I don't think I actually thanked you for saving me the other day, but I really appreciate it. If you hadn't shown up when you did, I might be dead today."

Ryan shrugged. "It's my job, Berlyn. Get the bad guy, save the girl."

"Yeah, well, job well done, then." She gave him the end-all be-all of smiles, and he felt his stomach flip.

With almost empty plates in front of both of them, Berlyn caught Ryan staring at her. She picked the cloth napkin up from her lap to wipe her mouth, self-consciously. When his stare didn't falter, she fumbled around with her dress and hair, making sure she looked okay. A smile began to form on Ryan's face, watching her nervousness match his own.

"I'm sorry for staring. It's been a long time since I've been able to get a beautiful woman to go to dinner with me."

"You're a charmer, aren't you?" Berlyn teased, her confidence suddenly coming back to her.

"Only on my good days."

"And your bad days?"

"Cocky," Ryan replied, echoing Berlyn's sentiments from the first two times they had crossed paths.

Berlyn laughed with him. "You have to admit, you were pretty cocky."

"Okay, the second time has to be excused, due to intoxication. The first time though, when you were in the crime lab, you were just as heated as I was."

"What can I say? I don't like to back down from an argument." She grew quiet. "Although that may seem to be contradicted by my previous choice of boyfriend, I will actually have you know that I never backed down from an argument with Travis. You think I would have learned after the first couple of times he hit me, but that's just asking too much."

"Berlyn, why did you put up with it? There are places you can go, people who can help you. I'm sure you had guys lined up around the block for you."

"No, I didn't. Travis made sure of that. It wasn't just as easy as going somewhere and getting help. Travis and I were together for six years, Ryan, since before we even graduated high school. When I met him, I hadn't ever gotten attention like that from anyone. He made me feel good about myself, and eventually I fell in love with him. Somewhere along the way, I didn't love him anymore, but I didn't know what I was without him. If I wasn't Travis Grey's girlfriend, I had no identity." Berlyn wiped a tear that had managed to escape during her speech. Ryan reached across the table and took her hand in his.

"You're Berlyn Vera. You're a beautiful girl who can do anything she wants. You're a great … what is it you do?" he asked, realizing he didn't know. This at least got a chuckle from Berlyn.

"I'm a photographer. I do a lot of landscapes, still life, but every once in awhile some well-to-do family will need a portrait or wedding pictures. I really prefer people pictures, but it's hard to build a rep in a city where there are already so many in the profession and your boyfriend limits your networking."

"I'd love to see your work," Ryan told her. "I take lots of pictures, but mostly just evidence."

"Oh, I'm sure you're an excellent photographer then," Berlyn smiled. The waiter brought the check, and Ryan handed him a credit card. Once the receipt was signed, he stood and offered his hand to Berlyn, which she willingly accepted. They intertwined their fingers together and walked out to the street.

"Where are you parked?" Ryan asked.

"I'm not. I mean, I don't have a car because the only one I had belonged to Travis and he took off in that when he went into hiding. I've been taking cabs everywhere till I can get out and go car shopping. Do you mind giving me a ride home?"

"Of course not. I'm parked right there, but maybe we can take a walk first? The beach is just around the corner."

"I would love to," Berlyn smiled, leaning into his shoulder. The talked and laughed up and down the sidewalk. The beach was literally around the corner, as Ryan had said. Berlyn slipped off her heels and held them in her free hand, along with the roses that had been on the table, while they walked along the shoreline, far enough though that the water wouldn't catch them.

"So are you going to let me take you out again?" Ryan asked, bringing her into an embrace.

"If you answer me one question," Berlyn replied, looking up at him.

Ryan moved one arm from around her waist so he could brush a strand of hair behind her ear. "What's that?"

"What does a cocky CSI officer see in an abused girl? Are you trying to be my knight in shining armor?" Berlyn had to admit, she didn't want to be somebody's charity case.

"No," Ryan shook his head. "Because I don't see an abused girl when I look at you, Berlyn. I see a girl who makes my world stop with her smile. I see a girl who is giving me chills just being so close to me right now. I see a girl who makes me want to be serious about a relationship. I don't want to rush you -- I felt you tense just then -- but it's only fair for me to tell you what I want out of this."

Berlyn nodded, then rested her forehead on his chest. Ryan brought a hand up to stroke her hair, and she held on to him a little tighter. He smelled wonderful, and that was always a weakness for Berlyn. They stood like that for some minutes before Berlyn finally found her voice to speak.

"I want a relationship, too. I just don't … I'm not used to all of this. You know, being treated well, the flowers, the hand-holding even. If I question it, you have to know that it's nothing you're doing wrong; I just have to know this isn't going to change into what it turned out to be like with Travis." Berlyn looked away, but Ryan reached a hand under her chin so that he could lock his gaze with hers. Slowly and cautiously, he leaned his head down, finally connecting his mouth to hers in a chaste kiss.

"I will never hurt you, Berlyn. I couldn't ever hurt you." With that said, Berlyn pulled him in for another kiss, this one backed by more emotion. She needed to feel him close to her and know that he was real. The kiss lasted a few minutes, until Ryan's phone rang.

"I need to get that," he apologized. He flipped open the cell. "Wolfe … yeah … I'm with her right now … okay. Thanks for the heads up."

"Everything okay?" Berlyn asked.

Ryan kissed her once more, then took a deep breath. "It's Travis. He got out, during the transport from the hospital to the jail. We have to get you back to the lab so we can make arrangements for you to stay somewhere safe until we find him."

The look on Berlyn's face was that of sheer horror.

_A/N: I know this chapter was a lot of fluff, but I did want to get into the relationship between Berlyn and Ryan more. Next chapter should be more exciting. Thanks for reading_!


	3. Chapter 3

Back at the lab, Ryan sat Berlyn in one of the interrogation rooms, then went to go find Horatio who said he would be waiting in his office. Before he could get far, Berlyn grabbed his hand, and her eyes pleaded with him to stay.

"I don't want to be alone," she admitted. "Please."

Ryan leaned over her, kissing her forehead. "You're safe here. I promise. I'm going to talk to Horatio, and I will be back in ten minutes, tops. Okay?"

"Do you promise?" Berlyn's eyes were wide, beyond their normal limit, with fear.

Ryan stood her up and brought her into his arms. "He can't hurt you anymore. You're safe with me. You're safe."

Finally, Berlyn nodded, and let him leave. Ryan didn't have to go far; Horatio had heard the couple talking and headed down the hallway, meeting Ryan right outside the room. Ryan avoided making eye contact with Horatio, suspecting a conversation on ethics to follow soon. Horatio eyed Ryan's get-up, and then noted the dress that Berlyn wore. He also noted Ryan fidgeting with his clothes.

"Here's what happened. Let's walk." Horatio led them away from the room so that Berlyn couldn't overhear. "Travis Grey was en route from the hospital to the medical wing of the jail so that he could be in more secure custody and still be watched for his bullet wound. He was cuffed, so both of the transporting officers rode up front. They stopped at a red light, he got out and took off. They couldn't track him down."

"So we've got an alleged murderer and definite assault suspect on the loose, and the assault victim needs to be put in protective custody," Ryan surmised. "Should I make some calls?"

"I don't know, Ryan. I guess that depends on whether or not she's already in custody of a CSI agent," Horatio replied.

Ryan sighed. "Look, Horatio, I know that this isn't normally something we would get involved with, but I told you, I had already asked her out before any of this. Well, except for the murder. When I asked her out though, I didn't make that connection."

"She must really trust you, to pick up a new relationship so soon," Horatio noted, and sighed. "I'm not going to say anything. As long as this case doesn't get personal, Wolfe, I'll keep my mouth shut. Don't make me regret that decision."

"Thank you," Ryan said, breathing a sigh of relief. "What do we do about protecting her?"

"She shouldn't be left alone at anytime until we find him, or are sure she'll be safe. I will speak with her apartment building in the morning. You need to get her out of there tonight."

"Where am I supposed to take her?" Ryan asked.

"There's a hotel a couple blocks from here. Take her to her apartment to get the essentials, and then take her there. I will make a stop at the hotel before I leave here and let them know of the situation."

"Thanks, Horatio."

"Nothing personal," he felt the need to remind Ryan.

"Nothing personal. Got it."

-----

"Okay, everything's clear. Go ahead and pack some stuff, just what you need, okay?" Ryan told her. He waited in the front room while Berlyn put a bag together, noticing the pictures on the wall. Most were black and white, but there were also a few color images, all matted and framed to perfection. He was in awe at her work. As he looked around the room, he noticed a smaller picture on the far wall, and got closer to look at it. It was clearly a family photo; there were several beautiful women and a few handsome men all arranged in front of the ocean. It wasn't until he noticed Berlyn tucked under and older man's arm that he realized it was her family.

"That's from the last time I was home," Berlyn told him, suddenly coming into the room. She had changed to jeans and a simple tank top, and dropped a large duffle bag on the couch.

"Is this is Miami?"

"No, it's in Mexico. I'm from Zacatecas, and my grandparents still live there, in the house I grew up in."

"Wow. Do your parents live there, too?"

Berlyn shook her head. "Both of my parents died when I was young. When I got to high school, my grandparents sent me here to live with some family, and I've been here ever since."

"I thought I detected a little accent," Ryan smiled. Berlyn stood next to him and pointed out who everyone in her family was in the picture.

"I guess we should get going. I think I have everything," Berlyn said quietly.

"Yeah, let's get you to the hotel." He carried her bag for her, putting it in the trunk of his car. "Did Travis ever go to Mexico with you?"

"Only once. My grandfather didn't like him at all. I mean, he tolerated Travis while he was there with me, but he was never welcome in the house again," Berlyn replied. She started wondering what her grandfather would think of Ryan.

-----

"Okay, everything checks out," Ryan assured Berlyn as she stood nervously in the middle of the hotel room. "You have your cell phone and the hotel phone, my number, Horatio's number, I'm sure you know 911. All set?"

Berlyn barely nodded. "I think so."

Ryan took her in to his embrace for the hundredth time that evening; he couldn't get enough of holding her as it was, but now he just wanted her to feel safe. She seemed to relax a little in his arms, and tried to work up the courage to ask him to stay. Her mouth wouldn't stay the words her brain willed it to, though. After a few minutes, Ryan gave her one final squeeze and let her go.

"I'm going to get home and get some sleep. You should try to get some rest, too." He kissed her once, then turned to go.

"Ryan," she said, hesitantly. _Oh, why can't I just ask him? _she thought. She didn't have to say anything, in the end, because Ryan read the question on her face.

"Berlyn … I want to stay, I do. I want to spend every second making sure he doesn't get to you, but I can't. You _are _safe here, and I will be back first thing in the morning. Honestly, the best thing for you to do is going to be to keep up your normal routine, but stay in public places. I will find him. I can't let my personal feelings get in the way of me doing my job."

"Just give me tonight," she pleaded. "Just tonight, while I calm down from this. Please? I promise not to ask you to stay again, but tonight I cannot be alone."

Ryan sighed, feeling his heart soften and his resolve disappear. He nodded and laid his jacket carefully over a chair in the room. Berlyn managed to smile a thank you, and settled on to the bed, waiting for Ryan to sit next to her.

"You know," she told him quietly, "I think this isn't you doing your job. Think of it like an extension of our date."

"I think I could do that," Ryan smiled. He kissed her lips, and she pulled him in to lengthen the gesture.

-----

"You're early," Horatio noted when Ryan walked in to his office the next morning. "Figured you would have had a late night."

"No, not too late. Few hours after I met you here. Any new information?" Ryan asked.

"Actually, yes. A pharmacy in West Palm Beach was broken into early this morning. Antibiotics and dressings were stolen. No money, nothing for cooking meth."

"Surveillance camera?"

"I'm having a copy of the tape sent down. We should have it soon. Is there anything Berlyn can tell us?"

"We can bring her in," Ryan offered.

"Let's do that. I need to know what she knows. Before we do that, I want to go back over the Ellen Alexander case. What was missing to convict Travis Grey of murder?"

"All of his stories checked out. His fingerprints were all over the body, but they were having an affair. There was one shoe print found on the scene, but we couldn't match it to him. No weapon could be found, so that kind of got us stuck."

"So we need a weapon. We need to know what he used to slit her throat and what he used to beat her. If we don't have a weapon, we're lost, and we can only get him for assault."

"Right," Ryan answered, heading to find Calleigh. He wanted to update her on what Horatio had told him, and see how much she knew.

"Morning, Sunshine," Calleigh smiled. "I hear our suspect got away."

"Yeah, he did," Ryan sighed. "We've got to get a weapon on the Alexander girl, or we've got nothing except for assault, and I want to put this guy away."

"Getting personal?" Calleigh asked, a strange look in her eye.

"Horatio told you about Berlyn, I take it." Ryan sighed; he was glad that Horatio wasn't going to tell him to stop seeing Berlyn, but he should have known he would've been assigned a babysitter.

"Just keeping his eyes open, keeping you out of trouble," Calleigh defended. "It's all right. She's a cute girl."

"Yeah, tell me about it. I don't know Cal; I don't want to just put this guy away for her. I kind of have a lot on the line."

"I know you do. We'll get him. Let's look at the murder weapon first. It's a straight cut, so it would have to be a knife, or something with a sharp edge to it."

"All of the knives on the scene checked out," Ryan noted, going over the file again. "None tested for blood or any fingerprints, other than the victims."

"So the killer has the weapon, or dumped it somewhere else. Ever have a case where you just feel like you're not getting anywhere?"

"I'm looking at it, I think." Ryan sighed in frustration. "We need to go back to the crime scene."

"Ryan, three weeks after the fact, evidence is starting to fade."

"I just need to see it," he persisted. "We had to have missed something."

"All right then. Let's go." Calleigh led him out to the hummer, and they drove together to Ellen Alexander's apartment. The police tape was still on the door; the apartment manager explained they were waiting for Ellen's family to come and claim her things.

"So no one has been in there?" Calleigh verified.

"No one," the manager assured. The two CSI's nodded, and went up to the apartment. Everything had been cleaned up, and, except for markings on the ground to show where the body had been found, only a hole in the wall in the bedroom gave away that anything amiss had happened there. They both looked around, Ryan of course taking a careful eye to detail. He walked through the kitchen and bathroom first, while Calleigh took the bedroom. They found nothing different, but decided to check the living together before they left. Ryan stopped in front of one particular picture that was extremely familiar.

"Pretty picture," Calleigh commented, appearing at his side.

"Berlyn took it," he informed her. "She's a photographer. Here, this is her signature."

"Why would Ellen Alexander have a piece of work from the man she was seeing's girlfriend?"

"I don't know." Ryan removed the picture from the wall. There was an inscription on the back, and he read it out loud. " 'Beautiful picture for my beautiful girl.' Apparently it was gift. What a cheap jerk."

"That explains that. Look, I don't think there's anything else here. Come on, let's get back to the lab."

Ryan just nodded, feeling like was close to solving this case, but couldn't quite bring it within his grasp.

-----

"Tell me about the dates on the pictures," Horatio prompted Berlyn. She was sitting in one of the interrogation rooms, still a bit tense.

"It was in red ink, like I said before. The date on the back of the picture of Ellen was for three days before I was in here the first time, and mine was two weeks from the first time I was in here. I thought that was weird because at the time, both dates were in the future. When I found more pictures of him with Ellen, I didn't even think about it."

"There was no other writing on the pictures?"

"Not the ones that I saw. I didn't look at the backs of any of the other ones."

"Okay. Ms. Vera --"

"Please, call me Berlyn."

"Berlyn," Horatio repeated. "Where would he go if he was going to hide out?"

Berlyn tried to think. "I don't know. Last time he was hiding, he called me once from his cousin's in Orlando. I don't know if he just stopped there, or if he told me that's where he was and he was really somewhere else, or if he would go back. He called from a cell phone."

"All right. We'll get your phone records and find out where the call was coming from. I don't want you to worry."

"I won't." Berlyn paused. "You know about me and Ryan."

Horatio sighed. "Berlyn, it's not my interest to get personal with --"

"No, I just … I want you to know that I'm not trying to get in the way of his work. I know this is a conflict of interest for him to be on a case that I'm involved with, and I need you to tell me if it would be better for me to stop seeing him. If it is, then I won't see him anymore. This is very important to him to get Travis, and, if I'm in the way of that, then … I just don't want to be in the way."

Horatio gave her one of his kind smiles. "I think you're the reason why it's so important to him."

_A/N: Well, there's your new chapter! I don't know how happy I am with it, but at least it's up. My next update may not be until Tuesday or Wednesday, but I will try my best to get the next chapter up before then. Thanks for all of the reviews and alerts you guys did for my story! _


	4. Chapter 4

-1A week went by without any progress. Ryan was still stumped on the leads he needed to prove Travis had murdered Ellen Alexander, and the team wasn't able to get any clues as to where Travis was hiding. There were several more pharmacy burglaries across the state, but inconsistent with finding their fugitive. Berlyn did what she could to continue on with her normal life, but lived in constant fear that Travis would show up at her hotel door at any moment. Every time her phone rang, she feared it was him. The only times she felt safe were the times Ryan was with her. He hadn't stayed with her after that first night and, as promised, Berlyn hadn't asked him to stay with her. He had picked her up after work tonight and brought her back to his place for a light pasta dinner and a movie.

"I didn't know you cooked, Agent Wolfe," she teased him, trying to remain as lighthearted as possible. She was beginning to find though, it wasn't difficult for her to be in a good mood around Ryan.

"Well, pasta isn't too hard, so don't get excited," Ryan laughed. "The sauce comes pre-made and the pasta is just boiling water and a pan."

"Okay then, no points for you."

"Hey now, you didn't tell me there were points involved." Ryan caught her from behind and tickled her until she begged for mercy.

"I give, I give!" She wiped tears of laughter from her eyes, and settled her gaze with his. The laughter subsided and Ryan approached her slowly, placing his hands at her waist. He kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose, before touching his lips to hers in the same fashion as their first kiss. Berlyn wrapped her arms around him, all the while pulling him to her for another kiss, this time much less innocent. Before either of them could process what was happening, Berlyn's back was up against the nearest wall, and Ryan was holding her tighter than ever. Unaware it was possible, their kisses grew more intense. Berlyn slipped her fingers under the hem of Ryan's t-shirt and slipped it up over his head.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Ryan asked, breathless. He kissed her fingers gently, then her mouth once more.

"Turn the stove off," Berlyn directed. "We won't be eating for awhile."

-----

Sometime later, Berlyn lay tangled in the sheets of Ryan Wolfe's bed, smiling up at the ceiling. He whispered in her ear, which made her giggle. Their escapade had ended some twenty minutes before, but they were just enjoying being together in that moment. Ryan ran his fingers over Berlyn's stomach, sending chills up and down her spine and causing her skin to raise with goose bumps.

"I haven't seen you this happy in all the time we've known each other," Ryan teased, kissing her.

"Yes, well, I haven't had … this in all the time we've known each other, and a fair amount of time before," Berlyn smiled in return. She couldn't believe that there existed a man who could treat her well, make her happy, and want to be with her all at the same time. The most unbelievable part was that everything Ryan offered her was unconditional.

"You can have it as often as you want," he promised. Standing up, he pulled on the jeans he had been wearing. As Berlyn's cell phone rang, he promised to be back momentarily.

Berlyn nodded and answered her phone in Spanish. "Bueno ..."

Ryan returned just as Berlyn was flipping her phone shut. She smiled at the tray he carried; two bowls of pasta, two glasses of water – one with lime, the way she liked it – and a piece of strawberry cheesecake were arranged carefully. Berlyn slipped the t-shirt Ryan had been wearing over her head along with the boy shorts she had on before, then settled in to eat with him. Halfway through the meal, she paused.

"Ryan, I know what I said about not being with anyone a long time before now, but I don't just mean the sex; I haven't had someone who treated me as well as you do in a really long time. Thank you."

He leaned up and kissed her. "Of course. If I treated you any less than this, Berlyn, I wouldn't expect you to stay. I'm not saying I've always been a good boyfriend to the girls I've dated, but sometimes there are just girls – women – who make you want to be better. You do that."

Berlyn felt like she was in a dream as she fell into his arms. It wasn't the same passion as before, but rather a need to feel the security he brought. He held her until she pulled away, and resumed her meal.

"Who was that on the phone?" he asked, attempting to make conversation. Berlyn got an excited look on her face.

"I was so surprised by the dinner in bed, I forgot to tell you. Apparently, my cousin is getting married next weekend, so my grandfather just called, and he's going to fly me to Zacatecas so I can be there."

"That's great," Ryan said.

"One more thing though," Berlyn told him. "I told him I might be bringing somebody."

"You did? I assume you meant me?"

Berlyn nodded. "I know you have the case and everything, but just for the weekend? Grandfather uses his frequent flyer miles to get me down there because he does much business in Northern California, so he has a billion of them, and he was willing to get you there, too."

"It means a lot to you, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does, but I understand if you can't make it. And you could just come for a few days. I'm going on Wednesday, and I'll probably stay for a week, but we can get you home Sunday if you need."

Ryan thought for a second. "All right, let me see what I can do."

-----

"I'm here to see Horatio Caine," Berlyn announced to the officer standing at the front of the Miami crime lab. He led her inside and to where Horatio waited in an interrogation room.

"Officer Caine, it's good to see you again," Berlyn greeted with a smile, and shook Horatio's hand. He returned her smile.

"Just call me Horatio. You're dating one of my agents, we should be familiar."

"Okay, then. What can I do for you today, Horatio?"

"Well, Berlyn, I know that you're probably getting ready to leave for Mexico tomorrow, so I don't want to keep you for too long, but I need to talk to you about Travis Grey."

-----

"We're here," Berlyn announced quietly when they were on the ground in Zacatecas. Ryan could see her excitement about to bubble over and squeezed her hand.

"You're home," he added, then kissed her. Between getting off the plane and getting their luggage, it was another twenty minutes before Ryan and Berlyn met her grandfather outside of the airport.

"¡Abuelo!" Berlyn dropped her bags and ran to hug her grandfather. Ryan smiled seeing how happy she was, and brought her bags along with his.

"¿Comó estás, niña?" Her grandfather kissed her forehead. "You look tired."

"I am tired," Berlyn replied. "It's always a long flight. Oh, Abuelo, this is my boyfriend, Ryan Wolfe. Ryan, this is my grandfather, Hugo Vera."

Ryan extended a hand out to the older man. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. Your granddaughter has told me a lot about you." Hugo looked skeptical for a few seconds while he gave Ryan the once and twice over, but then broke out in a smile and shook Ryan's hand.

"I don't think I have heard Berlyn so happy in a long time," Huge smiled. "Anyone who can do that is all right. Come, come. Let's get your bags in the car and get you to the house. I'm sure your grandmother will want you to eat something, but I know it's late, too."

Ryan joined hands with Berlyn. If he could have read her thoughts at that moment, he would know that she couldn't have been happier knowing that the two men she cared about most in her life were going to get along

-----

The first full day Ryan and Berlyn were in Mexico was full of last minute preparations for the wedding. Ryan met many people in Berlyn's family, but knew it would be a struggle to keep them all straight. He sat in the kitchen for the better part of the afternoon while the women cooked. There was much discussion, most of it in Spanish; although he couldn't understand what they were saying, he loved seeing the look of passion in his girlfriend's eyes when they came to a heated point. He had caught her eye and the couple was exchanging a smile when Berlyn's grandmother, Carmen, pushed a plate of food in front of him.

"Eat," she directed. "You've had nothing since breakfast."

"That was only two hours ago," Ryan replied. His mischievous smile wasn't missed by the older woman and she shook her finger at him.

"You had better get used to it," Carmen informed him in her thick accent. "You'll be eating every two hours while you're here."

Ryan only laughed, and did as he was told. Berlyn flipped a tortilla she was warming up watched the interaction longingly. Ryan caught her gaze again and attempted to decode the look on her face. She realized he was growing concerned and looked away, saying something to one of the other women in the kitchen. He continued to eat his food, but couldn't erase the look she had given him from his mind.

-----

The day of the wedding proved to be even more hectic than the day before. Berlyn rose early to go with her grandmother and the other women to the bride's house, leaving Ryan in bed until long after the sun had risen. He finally dragged himself down to the kitchen and invested in a cup of coffee as the other men sat around a large spread of food and talked and ate.

"Ryan, come here," Hugo beckoned. "This is my nephew, Marcos. He's the one getting married today. We're trying to talk him out of it."

"Why is that?" Ryan asked perplexed.

"Family tradition," Marcos replied. "Apparently, the day of the wedding, all of the men gather around and try to talk the groom out of it."

"Does it ever work?"

"I don't think so," Marcos laughed. "They're not talking me out of my Veronica. She's beautiful."

"Come on, Ryan," Hugo encouraged. "Tell him why he shouldn't marry her."

"Well, it's only been a few weeks, but if she's anything like Berlyn, she's a feisty little thing. You don't want that, do you? You need a woman to wait on you and agree with you, make life easy." Ryan smiled and sipped his coffee as the other men laughed.

"I see you've gotten a true taste of the Berlyn we know," another man Ran was sure was Berlyn's uncle added in. "We thought maybe with everything with that deadbeat she was with, she would have lost her spirit."

Ryan shook his head and recounted the night in the bar for them. "I have never been put in my place so abruptly in my entire life."

"That sounds like her," Marcos agreed. "Berlyn and I were very close growing up, since we're only about a year apart. When she first met Veronica, I thought she was going to take her head of just by sheer intimidation."

"She's coming back around to her old self, that's for sure," Hugo enforced. "All right everyone, back to this business of Marcos getting out of the wedding …"

----

"Are you really happy?" Carmen asked Berlyn later when they had a moment to themselves.

"Yes, Abuelita. Ryan, he keeps me safe, and he cares about me. I care about him, too. He's so different from Travis."

"Maybe we'll see your wedding soon?"

Berlyn laughed. "Probably not for quite some time. It's only been about three weeks."

Carmen smiled and kissed her granddaughter's forehead. "I have a good feeling about him Berlyn. Just make sure you don't push him away."

Berlyn just nodded as her grandmother went to fuss with the bride's dress. It would certainly be easy to push Ryan away, especially now, but she surprised herself at not wanting to. In truth, she wanted to pull him as close as possible, and never let him go.

-----

The wedding ceremony proved to be very long, and by the time they were back at the house for the reception, everyone was ready to eat. The women busied themselves about getting food on the tables and served, making it some thirty minutes before Ryan was able to grab Berlyn by the hand and bring her to the side of the house where no one could see them. Seeing her in the red dress she wore to the wedding caused a fire in him he hadn't felt before. He liked her in red. He pushed her against the wall and pressed a firm kiss squarely on her mouth. She responded in kind, throwing her arms around his neck. He could taste the tequila on her breath, and smiled as he pulled away.

"Someone has been drinking," he smiled.

"Only to keep myself from jumping you," Berlyn replied. She kissed him again, even more passionately, and Ryan had no problem returning the gesture. It was some minutes before they were caught.

"Hey, you two! Berlyn, get some tequila in that man and come dance with us!" Ryan looked over to see Marcos, his new wife close to his side, gesturing for his favorite cousin to re-join the celebration. Berlyn took Ryan's hand and led him to a table full of alcohol. He took the shot from her hand, clinked the glass with hers and poured the burning liquid down his throat. Berlyn didn't even so much as wince before leading him to the part of the yard deemed a dance floor. She took Ryan's hands in hers and began to move her hips along with the rest of her body in a smooth, sultry motion. Ryan, never a strong dancer, did his best to keep up. She threw her head back in laughter, enjoying his attempts to match her movements. After a few fast songs, the band slowed the pace to a ballad. Couples everywhere came closer to each other and swayed in time with the music. Ryan took one of Berlyn's hands in his own and held it close to his chest. He wrapped his free arm around her waist, and she put her free hand behind his shoulder. Berlyn let her forehead rest on his chin until she felt like she needed a kiss. Ryan obliged her willingly, and held her close for the rest of the dance.

----

Ryan checked his luggage at the airport two days later and shouldered his carry-on. The past few days he had spent with Berlyn had been incredible, quickly accelerating their relationship. He held her hand tightly, and the sat in silence for about twenty minutes before Berlyn knew she needed to get the car back to the house.

"Thank you for coming with me," she whispered.

"It was my pleasure, Berlyn. I had a wonderful time with you, and I can't wait for you to come home." At this, Berlyn let tears overflow and run down her cheeks. Ryan tried to comfort her, but to no avail. "It's just a few more days, it'll be over in no time."

Berlyn shook her head. "It's not that, Ryan. I just … I have this horrible feeling, like this is it. Something's coming soon, and I can't explain it. I just get these feelings sometimes. It happened before any of this started with Travis and the murder and everything. I know something's about to happen, but I don't know what, and I can't help but worry you won't be there when I come home."

Ryan held her close and stroked her hair until she was able to calm down. "Nothing is going to happen to me, okay? I promise, I will be waiting for you at the airport when you come home, and we will pick up right from here. Nothing is going to change."

Berlyn could only nod as he kissed her twice, and bid her goodbye. She wanted to believe Ryan's words, but there was no shaking the feeling that was consuming her entire being.

-----

The days until Berlyn was to come home went by quickly. She and Ryan spoke on the phone frequently, several times a day. Each time they ended the conversation, Ryan could her the longing in her voice, wanting to extend the call just a little longer. The effort to beat the feeling she had was only in vain, however, because it never subsided. Ryan continued working on the Travis Grey case in hopes that solving this would make Berlyn's paranoia disappear.

Ryan left the lab as soon as possible on the day Berlyn came home. He ate a quick dinner at home, then made the trip to the airport to anxiously await her arrival. She had called him earlier in the day to let him know she was had just arrived in Dallas for her layover, but everything seemed to be on time. Ryan watched the screens in the front of the airport to double-check, and, sure enough, her flight was right on time.

As passengers from all flights trickled down through the gates, Ryan watched loved ones and friends greet each other. Coming home or coming to visit, everyone was just so glad to see one another. Their joy only added to Ryan's, and he began checking his watch versus the time it said her flight had landed. An hour passed with no sign of Berlyn, and then another hour. He went to the desk for the airline she was flying with, and they verified she had made it to Dallas, but had not checked in for her flight to Miami. Frantic, he dialed her cell phone, which went straight to voicemail, increasing his concern. Ryan thanked the representative at the desk at backed away. He looked around the airport, not sure what to do. He was about to dial her number again when his eyes settled on a familiar face.

"Ryan," Horatio greeted.

"Horatio, what are you doing here?"

"We received word from the Dallas crime lab, about a murder that happened today."

"I'm waiting for Berlyn, so I mean, I need to get her home first, and then I'll be right at the lab to do whatever I can to help," Ryan rambled out, not wanting to believe what he thought Horatio meant.

"The victim has already been identified," Horatio explained. "They found Berlyn in the bathroom of the airport …" Ryan knew that Horatio would spare him the details until later when the facts had time to sink in. He sat in the nearest chair, and ran one hand through his hair.

"They're sure it's her?" he choked out.

Horatio nodded. "I'm sorry, Ryan."

_A/N: Okay, so this chapter was long, but I really wanted to get it over with. I know some people aren't going to like this development, but it's crucial to the plot, so I beg you to just stick with me! Thanks for reading!_


	5. Chapter 5

Ryan wasted no time in returning to work. Everyone was surprised to see him right on time the next morning after Horatio had delivered the news about Berlyn. He needed to shave, and his hair was a bit more ruffled than usual, but he otherwise looked like the Ryan Wolfe they all knew. Horatio approached him as soon as Calleigh gave word that Ryan had come in to the lab.

"Ryan, what are you doing here?" Horatio asked in a tempered tone.

"Investigating murders, like every other day," Ryan replied.

"You need to take some time off."

"You said not to make it personal."

Horatio nodded. "I did say that. Outside of making it personal, your girlfriend was just killed in an airport. You need to take some time to recover from that."

"I need to be here," Ryan informed him. "I need to keep busy for awhile."

"No."

"When Marisol was shot, H, you went right after her killer, no question. I can't take pause here. I have to fix this, and then I can fix the hurt."

"Fine. I need you at the top of your game though. If I catch you off just once, you're taking leave, got it?"

"Understood."Ryan was grateful that Horatio was now on the same page with him. He went about some research on airport bathrooms' stall doors, and had the basics down when Calleigh entered the room.

"Travis Grey has been reported partying it up in several bars all over Miami," she reported.

"Of course he has. His key witness is dead, so he's free to be here without worry that she would give anything away that would lead us to him. We're stuck figuring out where he's staying or catching him on a minor crime."

Calleigh nodded, then put a hand on Ryan's arm to bring his attention to her. "Ryan, if you need anyone to talk to, you can talk to me. When Jake –"

"Calleigh, stop. I appreciate the offer, the thought, all of that, but I can't. I need to stay busy so that I can solve this case. When I know that Travis Grey is behind bars for good, I can grieve for Berlyn. Until then though, I need to not talk about it."

"Okay. If that changes, you let me know. In the meantime, here are some articles we retrieved from Travis Grey's apartment while you were in Mexico."

"What do you mean? I thought we got everything from there."

"I ran a check through the system on a hunch and found out that Travis had a second apartment leased, under an alias he uses to do his dirty business. There are more pictures with dates on them, all Berlyn and Ellen. There's also a couple hairs we picked up from the bed, a toothbrush, things like that. Here's a good one though – blood sample from the wall."

"Thanks. I'll process these now."

"If you want me to process the pictures –"

"Really, I'm fine." Ryan took the bag of evidence and headed off to process it, leaving Calleigh behind to wonder how "fine" her co-worker really felt.

-----

"Need any help?" Eric offered, walking into the room with Ryan. He noticed the evidence spread out, and decided he could be nice.

"Actually, yes. I'm still trying to mark all of these dates on a calendar to try and find some semblance of a pattern; can you run this blood sample for me?"

"Not a problem." Eric took the sample from Ryan's hand, and then stood, quiet and awkward, as if there was something else he wanted to say.

"What?" Ryan asked, annoyed by being stared at.

"If you need someone to cover this case for you so you can take some time off –"

"Look, Delko, I don't need anyone to cover for me. What I need is for everyone to quit babysitting me. Berlyn is gone. She isn't coming back. I can accept that. I can deal with it, but in order to deal with it, I need to concentrate on this case and put Travis Grey away for good. Then I can work on getting over her. You know what Horatio says about Miami never closing? Well, my concentration on this case cannot even take a lunch. Horrible, horrible cliche statement, I know, but that's how it is. I need to figure this out for her."

"Do you love her?"

Ryan stopped what he was doing and ran his hands through her hair. "I don't know. I really don't. We were only together for a few weeks, but I think I was right on the edge with her. It was all happening so fast, and then, just like that, she's gone. I was trying to figure out exactly how I felt about her, and she was taken away from me."

"I know, it's not fair. There was this girl, Connie Wilkes. I didn't even know her last name until she was on Alexx's table, but she had potential. It's not really the same, but, I mean, I know where you're coming from. You and I don't get along that well, but we're still teammates, Ryan."

Ryan only nodded a thank-you, but Eric took it for what it meant and left to process the blood sample Ryan had given him, promising to process it through as quickly as possible. Ryan had a twelve month calendar sprawled out on the table and was marking the dates he saw on the back of the pictures. Ignoring the fact that his dead girlfriend was in a lot of them was hard to do. Most of the ones she was in were her by herself, but it wasn't the Berlyn he knew. He recalled what her relatives had said of her spirit being broken when she was with Travis; the girl in the pictures didn't have the same spark in her eyes Berlyn had when he knew her. The eyes of this girl were cold and dead, as if she was just waiting for life to take her because her soul was already gone. He closed his eyes for just a moment to bring up in his mind the picture that sat framed on the dresser in his bedroom at home. It was a picture of them in his bed, kissing. His hand cupped her face affectionately, and as much of a smile that was possible played across her lips so delicately pressed to his. He turned the memory of the picture into the memory of the actual moment, and sighed. That was the first time he had wondered if he wasn't falling for Berlyn.

"You got anything?" Calleigh asked, suddenly entering the room and breaking Ryan from his private daydream.

"You mean the calendar dates? Getting there. They span over a five month period, from March to August, so far. From what I can tell, he probably started planning this on St. Patrick's day. Oddly enough, Berlyn told me that's when she started having problems with Travis. Well, more than they were already having. It went from him being controlling, to him not coming home when he said he would. We just have to find out why he wanted to kill them."

"What's the pattern in the other dates?"

"I don't know yet. There's no spacial pattern, and without being able to question both girls as to the significance of any of the dates, I'm at a dead end right now."

"Let's keep looking. We'll find it."

-----

Eric was coming back to Ryan with the DNA results of the blood sample when he crossed Horatio in the hallway. Eric stopped the older man, and tried not to be too loud with his question.

"Is Wolfe really okay to be here, H? I mean, you picked up right after Marisol, but I have to think you're a little different than he is."

"Ryan has his own coping mechanism, just like the rest of us. We have to let him go through the process. If he wants to wait until Travis Grey is gone to grieve, we have to respect that."

"I got him to talk a little bit, but I'm still worried about it."

"These things take time, Eric. Ryan will open up more and more as time goes on." Horatio thought for a moment. "In the meantime, though, do me a favor. Call in Lindy Speedle, whenever it's convenient for her, will you? Ask her to bring Aida."

"Lindy? Why?"

"I want Ryan to see someone who is not a CSI coping with death."

"Right. I'll give her a call."

-----

"So the DNA of the blood sample on Travis Grey's second apartment is Ellen Alexander's," Ryan sighed, reading the report Eric had just brought him.

"Right. We know she was killed in her own apartment, but that means that Travis Grey had her blood on him and he went to that apartment after the killing."

"Calleigh did say that's where he did all of his dirty business. We need to do a second check over the apartment. The murder weapon has to be there, and maybe we can find other clues."

"All right. You want Calleigh to go with you, or you want my help?"

"You want to help, that's fine with me."

"All right, let's load up."

Twenty minutes later, Eric and Ryan were scouring Travis Grey's alias apartment for any other clues that might have been missed on the first run through. They didn't find much until they were on their way out and the spot Eric stepped on creaked under his weight.

"Go back," Ryan instructed. Eric stepped again, and again it sounded. Ryan quickly spotted a board in the wood floor that was spaced out a little more than the others. Getting down on all fours, he slipped his fingertips into the space and pulled up; the board gave without much resistance.

"Jackpot," Eric smiled. "Travis is a lazy kid. Didn't even clean the knife after the killing."

"That was a big mistake." Ryan dropped the weapon into an envelope, and hurried back to the lab. He was excited to process the knife and find out exactly whose blood it was on the knife.

-----

Ryan walked down the hall with the evidence he and Eric had gathered from the apartment, ready to process it and anxious to see what the findings would be. He was stopped, however, by Horatio.

"Go ahead," Eric told him. "I'll get Calleigh to help me start processing these."

Ryan nodded. "What's up, H?"

"I told you the Dallas office was going to send us any information they got on Berlyn's case."

"That would be the brown folder you're holding there in your hand?"

Horatio nodded. "This is their preliminary findings from the scene. Let's go in here."

Ryan followed Horatio into one of the interrogation rooms, and sat in the chair across from where Horatio stood. "So this is what it's like to be a victim's relative."

"Ryan, they don't just have their findings in here. It's not just descriptions. There are pictures of Berlyn's body in here."

Ryan let out a slow deep breath. "I was afraid you were going to say that."

"You don't have to look at them."

"I need to. I need all the details."

"I was afraid you were going to say that," Horatio echoed Ryan's earlier sentiments. "Her grandfather is here, Ryan."

"Right now?"

"Yes. He wants to see the pictures, and he asked that you be there. I'm not going to stay unless you want me to."

"No, we should be fine. Send him in."

Horatio nodded and left Ryan to think over the file while he escorted Hugo Vera to the interrogation room. Unable to wait and knowing it would be a few minutes, Ryan flipped the file open straight to the pictures. The first few pictures were not that bad, just the broken lock of the bathroom stall and blood smeared across the backside of the door. It didn't even occur to Ryan until he laid the third picture and those after in front of him on the table. Berlyn's body lay slumped against the wall, and her eyes stared at nothing in particular. There was a large bloodstain over her left ribcage and another covering her abdomen. There was a spot across her right cheek that looked almost like it did when he had arrested Travis after he beat her. He ran a finger along the cut from the bottom of her left ear that curved around, ending where each side of her collarbone met. He remembered the way she would shiver when he ran his fingers along the same spot, just below her neck. Feeling tears well up, he pushed the pictures back into the file and sat with his head in his hands until Hugo Vera entered the room, alone.

"Hugo, I'm so sorry," were the first words out of Ryan's mouth as he stood up to greet Berlyn's grandfather.

"There was nothing you could do," Hugo replied, fighting the tears in his own eyes. The look on Ryan's face told him the younger man had already viewed the pictures and knew what was there.

"I could have kept him in custody last time, after he beat her. I could've protected her better."

"You could have done nothing, Ryan. You're not at fault for this. Tell me, do I want to see the pictures?"

Ryan shook his head. "No. You really don't. I know it's her, but it's not her. Not with the injuries she had."

Hugo nodded. "Fair enough. My wife and I ... we want to thank you for how good you were to her, Ryan. She told Carmen you made her so happy, and she felt safe with you. She couldn't ever say that about Travis."

"I'm going to get him, Hugo. I swear."

"I know you will, Ryan. When you do, then you'll grieve."

Ryan nodded, not sure how the man knew he was waiting for Travis to be in prison. "It's going to take time."

"It's going to take time for all of us. When you put him behind bars, Ryan, you come see us in Mexico again."

Ryan nodded. "It's promise."

_A/N: There's the new chapter! It's a little short, but we're getting somewhere. I know I didn't develop too much about Eric's call to the Lindy Speedle character, but that will be in the next chapter. She's actually going to be Speed's love interest (who else's with that last name? Lol.) In the next story I am going to post. Thanks so much for reading, and keep the reviews a-cmon'!_


	6. Chapter 6

Eric Delko looked at the pathology report in his hands and tried to wash away the feeling of disbelief that overcame him. The blood on the knife he and Ryan had found the day before did not belong to Berlyn or Ellen. In fact, it belonged to Travis himself. Eric remembered that the only prints found on the knife belonged to Travis.

"How does that happen?" Ryan exclaimed. The five o' clock shadow he had was turning into a full on scruff, but at least he had fixed his hair that morning, and his clothes were a little more put together.

"Maybe the kid has cutting problem, or he was trying to cover something," Eric suggested.

Ryan groaned. "I can't put this case away, but every time I feel like I'm getting somewhere with it, things just backfire on me. It's like these two girls are dead, _my girl _is one of them, and I can't find what I need to make this work."

"We'll find it, man. Some cases take time."

"Thanks, Eric."

"Anytime." Eric left the room, leaving Ryan to piece together more and more theories, but each with another dead end, or ends that just didn't meet. He had been going on in his head for twenty minutes when Horatio came and got him.

"Everything all right?" Horatio asked.

"I don't know, H. I want to solve this case, and there's just some detail I'm missing that if I could just get it, everything would fall into place."

"Slow down. You're trying to rush it, and you can't rush cases like this. When you slow down, breathe, and take it a step at a time, you'll find it."

"You're probably right. I just need to let this happen. I'll find it. I'm the detail man after all, right?"

Horatio smiled. "Right. Now, there's a woman here I want you to speak with. Eric is in with her right now, but if we give them a few minutes, he should be done, and then I want you to really talk to her."

"Witness?"

"No."

"Horatio, if this is some kind of post-trauma therapy kind of thing –"

"It's not. It's Tim Speedle's wife, and I want you to talk to her about losing someone you love very much."

"What makes you think I loved Berlyn?"

"It's all in your actions, Ryan. And it's not past tense, is it?"

-----

"Lindy?" Eric cautiously entered the interrogation room where the slender brunette was waiting. The familiar eyes turned to look at him, all the while trying to keep her baby, who was the spitting image of the child's father, from spitting the pacifier on the floor.

"Eric, it's good to see you," she breathed. "Aida, honey, could you please not do that anymore?"

Aida's small hands pointed at Eric, suddenly realizing he was in the room, and gave her mother a questioning look.

"That's Uncle Eric. You remember Uncle Eric?" Lindy brushed a hand across the girl's forehead, removing something or other she had managed to acquire there, and a sudden look of recognition washed over Aida's face. The eight-month old held her arms out to Eric, and he wasted no time in swooping her into his arms. The little girl laid her head on his should, nuzzled into his neck and began whispering in baby talk.

Eric smiled at the little girl, and then turned to her mother. "You okay, Lindy?"

"Sometimes are harder than others. Knowing I'm going to have to come here and talk about Tim just brings it all to the forefront again."

"I know. We appreciate you coming in. You didn't have to."

Lindy nodded. "I know I didn't. I felt so alone after Tim died, like no one could understand my pain. Even with all of you and my family and friends supporting me, no one understood because no one loved him like I did. No one ever loved me like Tim did."

"I'm sorry I haven't been around lately."

"Don't apologize. I know how this life is. I had a CSI once, remember?" Lindy smiled, remembering Tim Speedle and all the time she had spent with him. How different things turned out from when she first met him; they hated each other at day one. Somewhere along the way, that changed. Now she was watching Eric Delko cuddle their daughter.

"She looks more and more like Tim every day," Eric commented. "I never thought I would see the day he had a kid."

"Neither did Tim," Lindy said quietly.

"I'm sorry, Lin; I didn't think."

"Again, no apology necessary. Like I said, some days are just harder and everything makes me think of him."

Ryan knocked on the door then and Eric was brought to attention. He motioned Ryan in and went to give Aida back to Lindy, but the little girl would have none of it.

"She doesn't get a lot of male attention," Lindy confessed. "My brother's been working a lot, too."

"It's all right. Aida and I will go visit the rest of the team while you guys have your talk." Eric left with the little girl, who held on to him for dear life. It had been a couple of months since he had made a visit to Lindy and Aida, but the little girl warmed to him instantly.

Lindy watched Eric and Aida walk away, then turned to Ryan. "She's the only connection I have to Tim, and it's crazy how just watching her leave with Eric makes me tear up. I sometimes wonder if there will be a day when she just doesn't come home, like he did."

"I'm sorry?" Ryan knew who this must be, but was still a little confused about what she was talking about.

Lindy wiped a stray tear from her eye and attempted a smile. "No, I'm sorry. I'm Lindy Speedle, and that's my daughter Aida. Tim and I, we were engaged right before he died."

Suddenly, Ryan understood why Horatio wanted him to talk to Lindy. "I never knew that about him."

"You weren't here when Tim worked CSI, if I remember correctly."

"No, but I've heard a lot about him."

Lindy nodded. "CSI was Tim's life, and, really, the only thing fitting besides old age to end his life would be the job. After he died, I changed my last name. We were never actually married, but Aida was already on the way when he proposed."

"I know it's hard," Ryan offered.

Lindy chuckled. "You know, you're the first person to tell me that who I have taken at their word. It almost makes it even harder, doesn't it, to have people who _don't really know _tell you that they understand what you're going through?"

"Yeah, it does. None of them know what it's like to lose her. Horatio, maybe, but he was actually married to Marisol, and the cancer and everything made him more prepared, I think."

Lindy nodded. "I know that was rough for Eric also. You know, Ryan, I can sit here and tell you I understand and all of that, but I know even what I felt after Tim died was different than what you're feeling now. You and Berlyn were new, if Horatio told me correctly, and you probably feel like you just never got the chance to know her like you wanted to. I felt some of that with Tim; felt like we just never got the chance to start our lives."

Ryan nodded. "How do you move on with life?"

"Wow," Lindy sighed. "That's a big question. I don't know how I did it. I guess knowing that Aida was coming kept me going. I knew I had to get up and take care of myself every day, so that I could take care of her. She's what I have left of Tim. Sure, I have clothes and things like that, but Aida, she's living. I have to keep going for her."

"Thank you, Lindy."

"You're very welcome." Lindy gave him a small smile as Eric re-entered the room with a smiling, slobbery Aida still in his arms.

"She wouldn't let anyone else hold her for more than a few seconds," Eric laughed. Aida was finally ready to go back to her mother, and Eric handed her over, and nodded to Ryan as he left the room.

"Thanks, Eric."

"Of course. I'll be around more, I promise."

"I appreciate it," Lindy smiled at him. She picked up the diaper bag and her purse, and steadied Aida on her hip. "We appreciate it."

-----

Ryan went home that night and ate a small dinner before wandering into the living room and sitting on the couch to watch TV. He knew, somehow, that this would become his routine for awhile. Without having a murderer behind bars and no leads on the case, there wouldn't be much else he could think about. Tonight, however, it wasn't the case or Travis Grey that was on his mind tonight; it was Lindy Speedle's words.

_We never got the chance to start our lives._

That's exactly how he felt about Berlyn. They never got to start their lives -- their life, together. He wasn't so sure the night she turned him down in the bar, but when he saw her beaten and scared in Travis's grip that day, he knew he would be the one to save her.

Then Horatio showed up at the airport instead of Berlyn. The pictures came and verified what he didn't want to be true. Berlyn was gone, and she wasn't coming back. Lindy had Aida, but Ryan couldn't figure out how he would keep going. What did he have to keep him going? The job, yes. He would never think of taking his own life, but still, he felt hopeless. The TV had nothing to offer to keep his attention, so he hit the power button on the remote

Trudging upstairs, Ryan felt tears well up behind his eyes, not for the first time since finding out about Berlyn's death. As he had done every other time, he held them back and refused to let his grief show through. He stood in front of his dresser and looked at the picture of him and Berlyn in the loving embrace; he picked the picture up and brushed some dust off of it. How did he go about moving on from this girl? She had change him in the few shorts weeks they knew each other, and he didn't want to go back to the way he was before.

Ryan placed the picture back on his dresser, but face down so he wouldn't have to see it. He undressed and got into bed, although he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep for sometime. He thought of the visit from Hugo Vera, and suddenly, he had his reason to keep on with the case. _Her family,_ he thought silently. _I will get through this so her family can have answers. _

-----

Two weeks after Berlyn's death, Ryan found himself in an all to familiar situation. Just after midnight, there was a call-in to MDPD about a shooting at a local bar. Word got to Ryan and Calleigh quickly that the shooter was, in fact, Travis Grey.

"What's the scene?" Calleigh asked once they arrived on the scene.

"Girl who was here with Grey says that he was doing a coke deal in the club's VIP room and things got nasty. Travis has a hostage behind the bar, and we believe the hostage has been shot. He's shooting at negotiating officers, so we're bringing in SWAT."

"Let's catch him this time," Ryan suggested, somewhat sarcastically."

Calleigh covered Ryan as he pulled out his gun and entered the club. There was no active shooting, and he didn't see anyone behind the bar. He cleared himself on both sides, and Calleigh said she would check the VIP room. Ryan approached the bar, and was immediately prevailed upon by bullets. He dove behind a fallen table, and sat against it. Calleigh came from the other side of the club and sat next to him.

"You all right?"

Ryan nodded. "I'm fine. Just sick of this crap with Travis."

"Get out of here, Wolfe! You shot me once, and I don't mind evening up the score if you don't leave _now_!" Travis yelled.

Ryan sighed. "I'm not playing this game with you again, Travis. You're a killer, and I want you behind bars, where you belong."

"You don't have anything on me!"

"I've got your assault on Berlyn. The rest will fall into place."

Almost before Ryan could finish his sentence, another shot popped off, and Travis yelled in pain, sinking to the floor. Ryan looked up to Calleigh with her gun pointed in Travis's direction; apparently while he had been distracted by Ryan, she got her shot in. They both hurried behind the bar. Travis's hostage, who couldn't have been more than nineteen, was taken off on a gurney and would later be charged with possession for marijuana he had before his coke deal with Travis. Travis was taken straight to the jail's medical center for his new minor gunshot wound. Ryan passed by Travis's gurney on his way back out to the Hummer.

"I'll get you for this, Wolfe. You just wait and see. I got out once, I'll get out again."

"I doubt that, Travis. You're up for two counts of murder one, plus the assault charge you never served for Berlyn, and now attempted murder of the guy buying the drugs from you. I'll be seeing you, but only for questioning and through a thick pane of bulletproof glass."

_A/N: I know there was a lot to do with the Lindy Speedle storyline in this chapter, but I guess I'm hoping that the preview will help me lock in readers for my next story when I finish this one. :) There will be more progression in the next chapter, I promise! Thanks for reading!_


	7. Chapter 7

It was a week before Ryan and Calleigh were able to question Travis regarding their case. Although there was no bullet-proof glass directly involved, they did get him in an interrogation room. He came wearing the traditional orange jumpsuit, complete with handcuffs and chained at the ankles also.

"Travis, that's a good color for you," Ryan greeted. "Have a seat."

"This is waste of time for all of you guys," Travis informed him as he took his seat. "You and Blondie over there can ask me all the questions you want, but you're better off finding evidence. I won't confess to anything."

"So there's something you have to confess?" Calleigh asked.

Travis shook his head. "All you CSI's are the same, you know? Stubborn and persistent. I can't get away from the assault on Berlyn. You saw that, there's no getting around it. That's all you have on me though."

"How long have you been cutting yourself, Travis?" Ryan asked, dropping the picture o f the knife in front of his suspect.

Travis balked, but only for a moment. "I'm not a cutter, man."

"Then explain the knife with no one else's prints but your own, and no one else's blood but your own, hidden in the floor of your secret apartment," Calleigh prompted.

"Fine," Travis sighed. "I started when I was fifteen and when I was seventeen my parents found out. They got me some therapy and I stopped for awhile. Then – some stuff happened, and I started again."

"How long ago?" Ryan pushed.

"None of your business," Travis growled. "I don't understand how that has anything to do with anything, except for you wasting more time. Me cutting myself has nothing to do with anything you're investigating."

"Maybe it does," Calleigh replied. "How recently you started cutting yourself again could mean a lot of things. If you started before either of the murders, maybe Ellen saw you cutting yourself, and was going to tell someone, to get you help. But you couldn't have that, could you? Anyone knowing that big time crime guy Travis Grey is less than what everyone thinks he is, well now, that just doesn't work, does it? So you started to plan her murder. Berlyn caught on and you murdered her, too. It took you time, but you did it."

"It wasn't like that," Travis muttered.

"Okay then. You killed Ellen for some other reason, Berlyn caught on, you eventually got to her and the guilt started you cutting again."

"I didn't kill Berlyn."

"But you did kill Ellen?" Calleigh prompted again. Ryan though, caught on to something different.

"What do you mean you didn't kill Berlyn?" he asked. Calleigh put a hand on his arm to steady him.

"I started cutting after my mother died, all right? I am a mama's boy, and I started cutting then. Six months ago."

"So Ellen caught you and you killed her?"

"You don't have anything on me," Travis reminded them. "Even if I did confess, which I'm not, you have nothing to back it up."

"So then what about Berlyn?" Calleigh asked.

Travis laughed. "Berlyn, Berlyn, Berlyn. That girl had it coming to her, just flat had everything working against her. I mean, she hit me. That just doesn't happen. On top of that, she had some other stuff on me. Those things don't matter though. Her dealer was going to get her before I did anyway."

"What are you talking about?" Ryan asked, in complete shock. "What dealer?"

"Cocaine, man. Berlyn Vera was a coke addict. She hid it well, didn't she?"

"Berlyn had nothing to do with drugs," Ryan corrected.

"Maybe not that you knew of." Travis leaned forward on the table to lock eyes with Ryan. "Maybe not that you knew of, but then, she only asked you to stay that one night, right?"

"Travis, how about you just tell us what you know, and we'll stick with that, okay?" Calleigh suggested. She could feel the heat of tension radiating from Ryan next to her. Ryan stood up as soon as the mischievous look crossed over Travis's face.

"I'll tell you what I know," Travis sneered, then looked directly at Ryan. "She was damn good in bed, wasn't she?"

Before Calleigh could stop him, Ryan had to fistfuls of orange jumpsuit and slammed Travis against the wall. It was one thing to sit and give them lies and avoid telling the truth, but to take a direct shot at Berlyn that way, he couldn't take that.

"Hey, it's not my fault," Travis smiled, despite his current circumstances. "She just dragged you in, man, and you fell for it. Berlyn Vera _was _a coke addict. You're better off without her. She never really cared about you. Probably just looking for safety from me, from her dealer. Hell, if she has to sleep with a cop to do it, I guess she just needed the way out."

Ryan slammed Travis against the wall once more, and that's when Calleigh was finally able to pull him off. The officer in the room escorted Travis back out of the room, leaving Calleigh to calm Ryan down. He shrugged her arm off of his and stood at the window, trying to slow his breathing.

"Ryan, you're going to blow this for us if you pull that again," Calleigh scolded. "I know you're grieving over Berlyn, but you cannot defend her anymore. She's gone."

"I'm sorry, Calleigh. He was trying to get to me, and I let him."

"Was she a coke addict, Ryan?"

Ryan shook his head. "Honestly, I had no idea. I'm going to pull her file and find out."

"That doesn't pertain to our case."

"I need to know." Ryan stormed off, leaving Calleigh in the wake of his anger.

-----

Horatio found Calleigh shooting rounds in the firearms part of the lab and waited for her to put the gun down before gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I hear Ryan was getting a little rough with our suspect," he started.

Calleigh nodded. "I should've stopped him, but it all happened so fast."

"Want to tell me what happened?"

"Travis was egging Ryan on about Berlyn, saying things about her being a coke addict and that she was just with Ryan for the protection, and he just snapped, Horatio."

"Is Ryan compromising this case for us?"

"No, I don't think so. He just ... I think he was trying really hard for too long to _not _make it personal, and when it got too personal, he couldn't not let it get to him anymore."

"I had him talk with Lindy Speedle, and things seemed to ease up after that, but maybe it was just the calm before the storm."

"That's why Lindy was here? Eric brought Aida around to everyone, but I didn't know that Lindy was talking to Ryan."

"I wanted him to feel like there was someone out there who had done this before him."

"Maybe she did strike a chord, and he's just not sure how to accept it yet."

"Well, Calleigh, let's hope he figures it out before something worse happens."

-----

Ryan had to pick his jaw up off the floor when he pulled Berlyn's record from the system. She was listed for two counts of possession and one DWI. The last count of possession was just two months before he met her. He couldn't believe there was any possible way his girl had been an addict, but further search into the system showed that she had never entered a rehabilitation program. Ryan knew from the job that very few addicts recovered, or got started on the road to recovery without some kind of rehab under their belts.

"There's no point in pushing it, she's not here for you to confront or save," Horatio stated. Ryan looked behind him, unaware the older man had entered the room.

"She was an addict, H, and she never even told me. So then what if she really was just with me for the protection?"

"There's no way of knowing, so there's no point in entertaining the possibility."

"I've seen it though, it's right here. How can I _not _entertain the idea?"

"You have an idea in your head of how you wanted to remember her before Travis Grey started putting ideas in your head, Ryan. Stick with that."

Ryan thought of the picture laying face down on his dresser and nodded. "But what if the idea I have of her isn't really Berlyn?"

"It's the Berlyn you knew, so nothing else matters." Horatio paused, to let Ryan process what he was saying. "I want you gone for a day."

"Gone? What?"

"Gone," Horatio repeated. "Out of the lab, away from any crime scenes, away from this case. Twenty-four hours, Ryan. I respect that you are trying to wait and grieve for Berlyn until Travis is behind bars, but if you don't get some of that out of your system, you're going to have to overcome many more obstacles than you would like to."

"Fine," Ryan replied. "Twenty-four hours, but then I'm right back here."

"Deal."

-----

Ryan tossed and turned, but couldn't sleep at all that night. There was too much weighing on his mind. Travis's words were meant only to get a temporary rise out of him, but they were accomplishing much, much more. Ryan still couldn't make himself look at the picture on his dresser, so it lay in the same place it had been. Somewhere along the way, he dozed off, too tired to keep himself awake any longer. The sun was shining brightly through his window when he finally woke up; according to the clock next to his bed, it was almost eleven. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and then stretched. Reaching for his cell phone, he pulled on a pair of jeans and headed down to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

"Hello?" came the voice on the other end, sounding slightly hesitant at answering the phone.

"Marcos? This is Ryan Wolfe."

"Ryan, hey, man. What's going on?"

"Not a lot. I'm sorry, I don't want to get your hopes up, I don't have any news on Berlyn, but I do have some questions for you. I figure you probably know her better than anyone."

"Yeah, I probably did."

"These questions, Marcos ... it's a lot of hearsay, and I'm calling you to find out what you know so that I can clear this up for Berlyn, all right?"

"Then you must be calling about the cocaine," Marcos sighed.

Ryan felt his stomach twist in his abdomen. "So Travis wasn't lying. She was an addict."

"Yeah. For a couple years, off and on. He started her on it, and it only took once to get her hooked. She would kick it for a few months, then disappear into the addiction again. She never told you?"

Ryan explained about the things Travis had told him. "That was the first I heard about it. Her dealer was after her?"

"Now that I don't know about. Berlyn would tell me when she did it, and we'd bring her home, for a week or two, and that's when she would clean up. She never told me about anyone she did it with, except for Travis getting her into it."

"Travis says he didn't kill her."

"He has something to do with it," Marcos insisted. "That bastard wanted my cousin dead, and just going to Dallas from Miami wasn't going to stop him."

"I'm going to fix this, Marcos. I promised your grandfather, and I promise you. Travis isn't going to walk away from this. Was there any other friends she mentioned here in Miami, at all?"

"Um ... some girl named Ellen. Ellen Alexander, I think. She said she didn't see her very often because their work schedules were so different, but a couple months before she called to tell me about you, she said that she was worried Ellen and Travis were screwing around on the side. She stopped seeing Ellen then, but she was sure Travis didn't. I guess she went to reconcile with Ellen one day, and she didn't answer her door, so she waited a few more days to see if Ellen would call her, but never heard from her again. She thought for sure Travis had something to do with it, but couldn't say for sure."

Ryan's head was swimming with all this new information. "Thanks, Marcos. I'll keep you updated, okay?"

"Sounds good. Thanks, Ryan."

"No, Marcos. All thanks are to you on this one."

-----

Ryan waited out the rest of his twenty four hours, but was back at the lab without a minute to spare. He found Calleigh first, and she updated him on what they had found while he was gone.

"The Dallas office has gone over and over the surveillance tape from the bathroom when Berlyn was there, but there's no signs of anything; she was in a blind spot, being in the stall. They're checking on anyone else checked in on flights on any routes that went between Dallas and Miami or vice versa."

"All right. Here's one for you: Ellen Alexander was friends with Berlyn until Berlyn started suspecting Ellen of screwing around with Travis."

"How did you find that out?" Calleigh asked, somewhat shocked. "You weren't supposed to be working in the last 24 hours, and it's too early in the morning for you to have gotten anything that juicy."

"I spoke with Berlyn's cousin and asked some questions. I wasn't working, I was making conversation."

"Sneaky," Calleigh smirked. "So what if Berlyn killed Ellen, and Travis was after her for killing his girlfriend?"

Ryan shook his head. "I don't think so. I mean, Berlyn did say that she didn't put up with that kind of thing, but I don't think she would have gone so far as to murder Ellen. She punched out Travis, and that was it; if she's not going to kill him, she's not going to kill Ellen."

"Well, you knew her better than any of us."

"Yes, but I also didn't think she would be a coke addict," Ryan confessed.

"So it's true?"

Ryan nodded. "Checked her in the system. Possession, DUI. Cousin says that she would use on and off for about two years, after Travis got her started. He doesn't know the name of her dealer and says she never mentioned anything about being afraid anyone was after her except for Travis."

"I guess we need to find out who her dealer was. Maybe the dealer has more info for us on Travis, too."

_A/N: Oh, the plot thickens. :) I am thinking there are going to be between twelve and fifteen chapters for this story, depending on how far away from me my imagination gets, so I'm going to be tying up the loose ends soon. Thanks for reading!_


	8. Chapter 8

-1"Calleigh, you paged?" Ryan asked, approaching her a couple days later.

"Yes, I did. We found Berlyn's dealer through her old convictions. Taylor Hawkins says he hasn't sold to her since before her last conviction, but she did owe him money. It was only about fifty bucks and since he knew she was trying to stay clean, he didn't bug her about it. I think he was a good friend to her, Ryan."

"What makes you think that?"

"Either he deserves an Oscar or he was really hurt by the fact that she was killed. He said he wouldn't be surprised if Travis Grey killed both of the girls; apparently, he stopped by Berlyn's apartment a week before Ellen was killed, and caught the tail-end of Berlyn telling Ellen how awful a boyfriend Travis was to her. Taylor said Berlyn encouraged Ellen to leave Travis, and Ellen left the apartment promising she would leave him soon."

"And a week later she ends up dead. Seems a little fishy to me. You're sure the dealer had nothing to do with Berlyn's murder though?"

Calleigh shook her head. "I'm positive. He checks out for being in Miami when she was killed. Before I left, he was so shook up, he handed over all his cocaine in exchange for a rehab sentence as opposed to going to jail. Berlyn's murder has him wanting to get clean."

"Well, at least some good is coming out of this." Ryan sighed. "Okay, so we've eliminated the dealer as a suspect, and he did give us some useful information. Every piece of information we get keeps pointing back to Travis as the murderer."

"We really need a murder weapon."

"That we do, but it's our Holy Grail at this point. We're losing this conviction with each day that goes by."

-----

Ryan endured night after night of restless sleep. The case was eating away at him, and it was all he could do not to let himself be completely overwhelmed. It had been about a month and a half since Berlyn was found in the airport bathroom, and every night he dreamed about her. Most nights it was dreams of them walking on the beach or dancing in Mexico. Some nights he had true nightmares of watching her murder, and not being able to stop it. Still, he got up every morning and went to the lab, hoping this would be the day he caught a break in the case. His normally detail-obsessed personality was also hindered by the stress he was under. He went back over photos of the crime scenes and tried to piece together whatever he could, but never saw anything different.

"Coffee?" Horatio offered, watching his CSI stress yet again over evidence that was there but not to be seen.

Ryan nodded. "Yes, please. Can I ask you a question about when Marisol was killed?"

Horatio was silent for a second, but then looked back at Ryan. "Okay."

"How long did it take you to get over her?" Moving on from Berlyn was the last thing he wanted to do, but he needed to know how long it would be before it would stop consuming him.

"It took time, Wolfe, but I can't say exactly how long. Some days it's like a fresh wound; other days, it's surreal that she's not here. Still, some days, I wake up and think of her and know she would want me to keep going."

"What you had with her was so new, and it was taken away very quickly."

"That it was."

"How do you get past that part?"

"Ryan, my experience isn't going to help you with this. You and I are different people. It's going to take time before she's not all you think about, and it's going to take time for you to not feel like something really great was stolen right out from under you. One day though, you'll look up and see the girl that you're meant to be with, and it won't hurt anymore."

"I can't imagine wanting anyone but Berlyn," Ryan confessed. "But I suppose that just takes time, too."

Horatio did little more than lower his chin in the semblance of a nod. He left the cup of coffee in Ryan's possession and left the room. There were other murders to investigate, other crimes to solve, but besides that, seeing his CSI suffer made him want to divulge information that he shouldn't share.

-----

Ryan and Eric were piecing together theories for the millionth time on both cases and how they could be connected, then coming up with every possible rebuttal from a judge. Ryan took a minute to answer his phone when he recognized a Mexico number.

"Ryan Wolfe," he answered.

"Ryan, it's Carmen Vera." Berlyn's grandmother had obviously been sobbing, and concern immediately rose in Ryan's body.

"Carmen, is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything's fine. I'm sorry, I know you're probably working, but I need a large favor from you."

"Of course. What can I do from you?"

"I was just sitting here looking at pictures of Berlyn from when she was a little girl, and I realized that we have some of her work here, but if you could maybe get any of her photographs that you don't need for the investigation and send them here? I need to have that extra piece of my granddaughter." Carmen sniffled again, a confirmation that she had been crying.

"I'll see what I can do. I believe her apartment has already been processed, so I'll see what I can send to you, okay?" Ryan thought of the picture in Ellen's apartment, and the wheels began to turn in his head. "Carmen, I'm sorry, but I need to let you go. I will call you later to get the address, okay?"

"Thank you, Ryan."

"You're welcome." He flipped the phone shut and turned to Eric. "Get Calleigh, we've got to go back to Ellen Alexander's apartment."

-----

"You're acting like a crazy person," Eric commented. Ryan couldn't get in to the apartment fast enough. "What are you thinking?"

"He's thinking he knows where the murder weapon is," Calleigh answered.

"You're right," Ryan confirmed, heading straight for the portrait hanging on the wall. "This hole in the wall here, I assumed it was there before and that's why Ellen hung the photograph over it, but look at this." The other two agents watched while he matched the corner of the frame up with the shape of the hold in the wall.

"He beat her with the photograph," Eric realized.

"And when he swung back, it hit the wall, causing the hole," Calleigh summed up. "But we know that the assault marks on Ellen's body weren't the cause of death."

Ryan was past his elbow into the wall. There was a board that was almost shelf-like behind the hole, and when he reached back far enough, he found what he was looking for. He grabbed the object and a few seconds later, displayed a knife, smeared with blood, for his co-workers.

"Travis hid the knife in the hole in the wall, and then re-hung the picture. Clever."

Ryan nodded. "Let's get this back to the lab so that we can get this guy."

-----

Valera brought the DNA report to Ryan as soon as she finished with it. Eric had already run the knife handle for fingerprints, and it matched to Travis almost immediately.

"Blood on the knife belongs to Ellen Alexander, with a small trace of Travis Grey's DNA," she told him.

"Probably slipped when he was stabbing her. Thanks, Valera."

"No problem." Ryan waited for her to leave before calling Calleigh.

"What's up, Ryan?"

"We need to get Travis Grey back in here."

-----

Pictures of the knife, Ellen Alexander, Berlyn, copies of the DNA report … it was all laid out when Travis got to the interrogation room.

"What is this about?" he sighed, as though the questioning was some kind of inconvenience for him.

"See this knife? Had your fingerprints on it. The blood there? That's Ellen's blood. The photograph that Berlyn took that you gave Ellen as a gift is what you beat her with, and we know that because we found Ellen's DNA on the corner -- the opposite corner of the one that hit the wall, causing the whole that you hid the murder weapon in. It was you, in the living room, with the knife. Should I keep listing out evidence, or do you want to save me the breath?" Ryan said.

Travis stared at the floor, clearly defeated. "Everyone knows I am a man. I don't let women run my life, I run their lives. Ellen did catch me cutting once. She wanted to help me, and I wouldn't let her. She just got more distant after that. I knew Berlyn was talking to her about leaving me. Then, one day, she came home and was done …"

Travis sat at the kitchen table cutting lines when Ellen walked in that day. It wasn't the first time she had tried to leave him; the first two times, however, he had convinced her to stay. Today it seemed she had a more confident air about her, like this would be it.

"Travis."

Travis shook his head and chuckled. "Don't say it, Ellen. Don't you dare say it. We're not breaking up."

"Travis, this relationship was never meant to happen! We started out by you cheating with me on one of my good friends, and now you're a mess. It's done, I'm done, we are done. Over."

"You're not going anywhere." Travis stood then, and grabbed a knife off of the kitchen counter.

"You're right, I'm not; this is my apartment. You are leaving."

"You're wrong about that, sweetheart." Travis stormed into the living room and set the knife on the TV. "I have never had a woman leave me before, until Berlyn. That's going to be taken care of, but I'll be damned if two women are going to leave me."

Ellen turned to get a cigarette out of her purse, and that's when Travis took the picture of the wall and delivered the first blow to the back of Ellen's head. She fell to the ground, and rolled over to face Travis in just enough time to see him bring down another strike. She tried to shield her face with her arms, causing the bruises on her elbows and forearms. When Travis saw he wasn't getting anywhere with the photograph, he tossed it to the side and grabbed the knife from the TV set to finish the job.

"Ending her life just ended yours," Calleigh stated confidently.

"I know. I know I'm in lock-up for good." Confessing seemed to lift not only the tension from Travis's shoulders, but also softened him. "I cared about Ellen, I really did."

"Funny way of showing it," Ryan muttered. Travis made direct eye contact with him and Ryan braced himself for the showdown of the century.

"I loved her," Travis admitted, with tears in his eyes. The CSI's watched a hardened criminal disappear right before their eyes, and a troubled young man began his therapy right in the interrogation room.

"What?" Ryan was shocked. It had honestly never occurred to him before that Travis Grey felt anything for anyone, except for anger and hate.

"I loved Berlyn, so much. I didn't know how to show her that. I swear to God I didn't kill her, and I didn't have anything to do with her death." Tears welled up in Travis's eyes. "I want to know when you find out who did it. You're lucky to have been the last to have her, man."

Ryan only nodded, not sure what to make of this sudden break in Travis's resolve. The officer in the room escorted Travis away and Calleigh waited with Ryan until he broke out of his trance.

"We got him, Ryan. It's over. Go home," Calleigh instructed.

"I still don't know who killed Berlyn."

"If Travis didn't do it, then we have to let the Dallas CSI take care of it. I'm sure Horatio will make sure you're kept up to date, but Ryan, our case is over. Travis Grey is going away for a long time. You need to take some time off."

Ryan again only nodded, and gathered the pictures and DNA reports into the brown folder and followed Calleigh out of the room. All the sleepless nights and stress he was feeling, he thought for sure it would be gone when he finally put Travis Grey behind bars for murder. He did feel a little bit better, but he still knew there were plenty of sleepless nights in front of him.

--

A few days later, Ryan called the Vera household in Mexico. It was time to make good on his promise to make a visit to them.

"Ryan, it's so good to hear from you!" Carmen exclaimed when he identified himself. "I been meaning to call you and give you the address to send Berlyn's photographs."

"Actually, Carmen, maybe I will just come deliver them myself."

At this, Carmen hesitated, and Ryan wasn't sure why. "You talk to Hugo, okay?"

"Sure. Good to talk to you."

"Ryan?"

"Hey, Hugo. How's it going?"

"Did you get Travis Grey?"

"Yes, we did. He'll be going away for a long time."

"Good, then he got what he deserves. You did well."

Ryan sighed. "He didn't kill Berlyn, sir."

Silence. "He didn't?"

"No. We don't know who did, and because he didn't do it, I'm not on the case. It's in the hands of the Dallas lab now."

"I'm sure they'll do a good job. Carmen says you're wanting to come down here?"

"Oh, yes. I promised you I would come, and I need a vacation now more than ever. Here's the dates." Ryan filled him in on the specifics he was looking at.

"That sounds great. I will be there to pick you up from the airport."

"Thanks, Hugo."

"No, thank you, Ryan. You put that man away, and, even if he didn't kill Berlyn, he caused her a lot of pain."

"I know he did."

_A/N: Sorry it's been so long in between chapters! It was a busy week. I have already started on the next chapter, and there should only be two, maybe three, after this one. Enjoy!_


	9. Chapter 9

-1Berlyn's apartment was eerily dark when Ryan arrived. He was cleared from the Dallas lab to pack up her things; some he would take to Mexico with him when he left to make good on his promise to her grandparents, and the other things he would keep with him to either ship later or just have to remember her. It was two months after Travis had been caught and confessed to killing Ellen Alexander; the trial was over, and he wouldn't be needed for the sentencing. Berlyn had been gone for four months now, although it seemed like much longer at times. He flipped the light on and stood in the living room, suddenly feeling the rush of emotion he felt when he came to rescue her from Travis come back to him. He was so afraid that she would already been gone when he got there, but now he was wishing he could have saved her from what happened to her in the airport.

Looking around the apartment, he wasn't sure exactly where to start, but he figured the beginning was best. The landlord had dropped off boxes and packing material earlier in the day, so he went about taking things off of shelves and delicately packing them in to boxes. He came across a sand dollar that he recognized as a souvenir Berlyn had picked up from one of their late night walks on the beach.

_They were laughing about who knows what. When they were together, Ryan could only smile, and Berlyn loved to laugh as often as she could. He would joke with her or tease her just to see her face light up. Without warning, he pressed his lips to her, wrapping her securely in his arms. She giggled as he pulled her along the shore, still locked in his embrace, kissing her and telling her all sorts of promises. She looked to the ground, and her eyes grew wide. _

"_Look, Ryan!" She bent to pick up whatever it was she had spotted and came back up with a sand dollar, almost in perfect condition. _

"_Wow, that's impressive. Good eye. Maybe you should have my job," he joked. "It's really difficult to find sand dollars at all, let alone in that great of shape. Probably more likely for us to see a shooting star out here."_

_Berlyn smiled. "Then make a wish on the sand dollar."_

_Ryan kissed her again, holding her longer this time, and making his wish silently. When she pulled away, he begged to know what wish she had made, but she refused to share. _

"_If I tell you, then it won't come true."_

Ryan sighed. His wish certainly hadn't come true; he had wished for everything with Travis Grey to go away as soon as possible so that Berlyn could be happy and free to live her life the way she wanted, and she could live it with him. That was one wish that would never come true.

The living room was packed in record time. He moved on to the kitchen and was thankful that there wasn't much in the way of things to remind him of other happy memories with Berlyn. He made sure the plates and cups were packed tightly with newspaper so that they wouldn't crack, and made a mental note to ask her grandparents what to do not only with her kitchen table, but the rest of the furniture.

The next room was the bathroom. There was still a pink stain on the side of the tub, and from its location, Ryan knew it was from where he had dragged her out of the tub and one of the cuts on her face had dripped as he pulled her out. He had to stand in the bathroom for several minutes before he was able to not picture her broken, murdered body slumped over in the tub. When he was finally able to wash that scene out of his mind, he remembered what he had found when he burst into her apartment the day after trying to pick her up at the bar.

_Ryan flipped his phone shut and continued his way into the apartment. He cleared the living room, and then the kitchen. Going back through the living room, he was preparing to kick his way into the bedroom, same as he had to do with the front door, when he heard a small whimper from the bathroom._

"_Travis? Come on out, Travis. You and me and Berlyn, we can go down to the lab and just talk. This doesn't have to be messy," Ryan offered._

"_Get out of here, man, or I swear, I'll kill her," came the gruff reply._

"_I'm going to open the bathroom door, just so we can see who we're talking to." Ryan slowly pushed the door back, exposing the sight of suspect and hostage. Travis was standing with Berlyn in front of him, in the bathtub, and had a gun to her temple._

"_You need to leave," Travis warned. "I've already taken a couple good hits to her, it would be no problem to just pull this trigger." _

_Ryan took the chance to look Berlyn over. Travis wasn't lying; she had a laceration above her left eye, a bruise under the same eye, and another cut by her right eye. Her arms were covered in bruises, and she was struggling to stand._

"_You don't want to do that," Ryan directed. "You shoot her, and I have to shoot you. My week's already been rough. See, I got in trouble at work yesterday, so I went to the bar to make myself feel better, you know, drown out the troubles. I met this beautiful girl …"_

And beautiful he had truly found her. He folded the shower curtain and started to take the curtain rings off of the curtain rod, and thought about her long brown hair and dark but soft brown eyes. She could get him to do anything if she just gave him the right look. He wondered if she knew how much he cared about her when she died. It seemed to him now that he cared more than before, as if the feelings he had for her were still growing, even after she died. Shaking his head, Ryan moved the box from the bathroom to the ones in the living room and moved on to the bedroom.

This room was the hardest for him to pack; everything still smelled like Berlyn. The bedding, her clothes, all of it. He took down all of the pictures, first the ones on her dresser, then the ones next to her bed. On the nightstand, there were two pictures of them: a black and white copy of the picture on his dresser and another of them on the beach. In between the frames lay the dried up version of the roses he had given her on their first date.

_He locked his gaze with her and watched her face heat slightly. The host arrived then, saving Berlyn from the moment. He motioned for them to follow him, and Ryan led Berlyn by the hand to the table. When he had called to make the reservation, he had requested a round booth table in the back, and asked that there be two white roses in front of Berlyn's seat._

"_Oh, Ryan …" Berlyn didn't know what to say as she slid into the table. She had already found the restaurant beautiful just from the front lobby, but this was so much more than she had imagined._

"_Do you like it?" he asked._

"_I love it. Thank you. For everything. I don't think I actually thanked you for saving me the other day, but I really appreciate it. If you hadn't shown up when you did, I might be dead today."_

_Ryan shrugged. "It's my job, Berlyn. Get the bad guy, save the girl."_

He had saved her once, but still he held himself responsible for not being there when she needed him most. The day he left Mexico, he had ignored her instincts and left her by herself. She had all but begged him not to go, knowing he had a life to get back to. If only he would have stayed … if only she would have come home with him … if only … if only …

--

Ryan knocked lightly on the doorframe of the layout room Horatio was working in. Horatio looked up, set down the evidence he was working with and motioned for Ryan to come in.

"Mr. Wolfe, good job with Travis Grey."

"Thanks, H. Took awhile, but we finally got him, for Ellen's murder."

"He didn't kill Berlyn. I feel like all this time I've been wasting when I could have been finding better evidence to catch her murderer."

Horatio looked to the floor. "The Dallas office is handling that."

Ryan caught the matter-of-fact tone he rarely heard from his boss. "You know who killed her, don't you?"

"Wolfe, you need to take a vacation."

"Did the Dallas people contact you? Did they find out who did it?" Ryan was boiling, but not with anger. The adrenaline running through him at the thought of knowing who killed Berlyn was much too much.

"I know what happened to Berlyn," Horatio answered quietly. "And I know that you want to and need to know, but I need you to take some time off first."

Ryan nodded, in too much shock to protest. "I'm going to Mexico for a few days to see Berlyn's family. When I come back, I want the truth."

"You'll have it."

--

Ryan didn't sleep at all the night before he was to leave for Mexico. He called Hugo before he boarded the plane, and the older man assured him either himself or Marcos would be there to pick him up.

"Are you going to be able to handle being here, Ryan?" Hugo asked, picking up the tension in the younger man's voice.

"It's going to be hard, but I'm finally accepting that she's not coming back," Ryan confessed. "I'll be fine."

"All right then. We'll see you in about eight hours."

Ryan hung up the phone and took a deep breath. They were starting to board his plane, but he was having second thoughts about going suddenly. To be back in the place, the house, the bed, where he was last with Berlyn was suddenly more than he could handle. He wanted to turn and run, but he couldn't make himself do that, either. He had to go and say goodbye to her. The airline employee announced the last boarding call for his flight, and Ryan willed himself to walk forward and board the plane. It was not a full flight, and Ryan was very glad for that; he had the row of three seats to himself. He would probably sleep most of the way, as the lack of sleep was catching up with him now, but he didn't want to wake up and see anyone except for Berlyn in the seat next to him. Since that wasn't going to happen, it was better for him to be alone.

--

Eight hours later, he was listening to the announcements for landing. He had slept all but the first and last hour of his flight, so he felt much more refreshed and even a little less tense than when he had boarded the plane. Ryan knew now that he really did need to come to say goodbye to Berlyn if he was ever going to move on with his life. Although he knew he was coming to say goodbye, he couldn't help but think of the excitement in her eyes when they had come to Mexico the last time. When he saw that look, he knew that this was truly home for her, no matter how long she would live in Miami.

The airport was busy, and the plane sat on the ground for twenty minutes before the passengers began their exit. Ryan stretched his neck from side to side in an attempt to work out the kinks while he waited. The airport was crowded, but he made his way through to the luggage claim, and waited thirty minutes to get his bag. Marcos was waiting on the sidewalk outside for him, and helped him get his luggage into the car. The first few minutes were silent as Ryan relived every step of Mexico he had taken with Berlyn on their trip a few months back. Marcos broke into his thoughts before Ryan could realize he had zoned out.

"My grandfather said that they don't know who killed Berlyn."

Ryan shook his head. "No, I'm sorry, they don't. I want to be involved with the investigation, but besides it being a conflict of interest, it's outside of Miami's jurisdiction."

"I understand that. I don't think they'll ever find who did it," Marcos admitted.

"They will, man. We just have to have faith." Ryan noticed the tense look on Marcos's face and chose to probe further. "Is it really just Berlyn, or is something else bothering you?"

Marcos sighed at being caught. "Veronica is pregnant."

"That's great. Why aren't you excited?"

"I am excited. I mean, I want her to be the mother of my children, that's why I married her. This baby is just coming a lot sooner than I expected."

"How soon?" Ryan asked.

"Oh, not for another six months, but still. I don't know if I'm ready to be a dad. My dad, he wasn't around a lot. I don't want to be him, and I don't know if I can live up to the role my grandfather played in my life and in Berlyn's life." Ryan nodded. He hadn't thought of it until the mention of her name, but he began picturing what their children might look like. Finding it too depressing, he pushed the thoughts away and continued the conversation.

"You'll figure it out. You took good care of Berlyn, I can tell, and this baby will be even closer family than that."

"Would you have wanted a baby with Berlyn?" Marcos asked, but then apologized immediately. "I know it's not my business, and it's probably not a good question to ask."

"It's all right," Ryan forgave. "Yes, I would have wanted a baby with Berlyn. I think she would have been an excellent mother."

"I know Veronica will be a good mother. I just don't want to do what my father did."

"Then don't. You make the choice of how good of a father you want to be, how involved of a father you want to be. In my line of work, I have seen kids with fathers much worse than I could ever imagine you will be, Marcos. Take this six months to really prepare and just start by being involved with Veronica's pregnancy."

"You're right. Thanks, Ryan. I don't know why, I guess I just thought you would understand me on this one."

"It's fine. I want to be there for you, for your family. I hope this trip isn't the last time I see you guys."

"I don't think it will be," Marcos said, then covered as though he had said something he wasn't supposed to. "I mean, Grandma will need to make sure you're eating every two hours, right?"

Ryan laughed along with him, but didn't say much for the rest of the car ride. With Berlyn gone, children hadn't at all crossed his mind until now. To think of Berlyn holding his son or daughter … it brought a smile to his face, until he realized that it would only ever be a dream.

-----

Ryan was welcomed in to the house with the love the Vera family would extend to a family member who had been gone for much too long. There were a lot of hugs and how-have-you-been's and all the usual courtesies on top of it. He set his things down at the door and made a point to find Veronica.

"I hear you've been naughty," he teased. She only laughed and hugged him tightly. Ryan could see the glow on her that only pregnant women have about them.

"Thank you, Ryan. It's good to see you."

"You too," he smiled, meaning it. "Carmen, how are you?"

Berlyn's grandmother had to reach to hug Ryan, but she did so very strongly. "I have food ready in the kitchen for you, but first there's someone else you need to talk to."

"I already said hello to everyone I thought?" Ryan was confused. He did a double-take around the room and was sure he had greeted everyone.

Carmen shook her head and pointed to the stairs. Ryan followed her finger, and felt the color drain from his face. Standing with one hand on the rail, stood the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She stared at him, cautiously, not sure what his reaction would be.

Ryan could only manage a whisper when he spoke. "Berlyn."

_A/N: That's right, she's still alive! C'mon, it can't be CSI:Miami without some kind of twist like this right? I know, it's a total Raymond Caine kind of thing, but it works for this story, I think. Also, I apologize for cheating a little bit with the memories, I know they're from previous chapters, but I just wanted those moments revisited. _

_I finally have a good handle on how much longer this one will be: two more chapters. I am halfway through the next one, but I already know what the last chapter will consist of. I've started working on my next story and already have ideas for a story that will branch off of that one. _

_Thanks for reading, and let me know what you think! _


	10. Chapter 10

"It's me," she replied, tears coming down her face. "It's me, Ryan."

Ryan walked towards her, and she met him at the bottom of the stairs. "But you … I saw the pictures … how?"

"Horatio. Apparently Travis wasn't coming back to Miami as long as I was around because of what I knew. I don't know how Horatio knew, but he knew that Travis would never be able to kill me himself, so Horatio needed me to disappear for awhile." Berlyn noticed that the rest of the family had disappeared to the backyard to give them privacy, so she moved to lean on the arm of the couch.

"All this time, all the pain I've gone through. _Four months_ of thinking you were dead, Berlyn."

"I know," she said, stepping closer to him. "I know, Ryan, and I'm sorry. Horatio kept me updated on you every step of the way."

"So you knew what I was going through, and you still didn't say anything?"

"No one except for Horatio, me, and the Dallas crime lab knew. It had to be as believable as possible. Travis knew that you and I were together, Ryan, and if he saw that you weren't upset after I was found dead, then he never would have bought it."

Ryan looked away from her for a moment. "I don't know what to say."

"Please, please don't be mad at me," Berlyn pleaded, crying harder. She sat on the couch and stared up at him. "The entire time I was away from you, I wanted so bad just to be in your arms every night. I missed you, a lot."

"What about the cocaine?"

Berlyn looked at him, shocked. "How do you know?"

"Travis told me and Marcos confirmed it." Ryan's jaw was set tight. He didn't know what to think; here he had what he wished for, Berlyn back in his life, but he felt betrayed, still.

"I haven't used since you and I met, I swear. The first few months that I was gone, Horatio had me in rehab under an alias in California. I'm clean, and I'm going to stay that way."

Ryan shook his head. "I don't know what to think, Berlyn. All this time, all I've wanted is to have you back, but it's not like I thought it would be if it did happen. I mean, I guess this is the only way, I just … how could you let me go through that?"

Berlyn stood again and took his face in her hands. "I want to be with you, Ryan; I did this so that we _could_ be together. With Travis free, you and I couldn't live our lives without being afraid he would find me one day. You have to believe me, please. I didn't do this to hurt you or just for myself. Please."

Ryan took her hands from his face and held them in his. "I want to be with you, Berlyn. I do. I'm sorry about my reaction, I just wasn't ready for this. Come here."

He wiped her tears before bringing her into his embrace. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that he loved her, but he still wasn't sure of it himself. If he could have read Berlyn's thoughts, he'd know she was thinking the same thing. Berlyn was the first to pull away a little and tilt her head upward, silently asking him for a kiss. He smiled for the first time since seeing her on the stairs and gave her a few seconds of suspense before letting his lips touch hers. They held each other that way for just a few minutes, but Ryan wanted to hold her closer. When he did so, he realized there was something between them, and she wasn't coming quite so close to him as he remembered.

"Berlyn do you feel --" He stopped mid-sentence when he noticed the roundness that was showing now. The shirt she was wearing had an empire waist, so he hadn't noticed her growing belly at first, but his arms had pulled back the fabric of her shirt, and her shape was now in clear view.

"There's another thing I have to tell you," Berlyn whispered. "Somewhere in the few times we were, um, together, I got pregnant."

Ryan nodded and let his hands move from her back to her stomach. Indeed, the curvature of her abdomen didn't give way easily, and it felt warmer than the rest of her. Looking into her eyes, he noticed the same glow he had seen on Veronica when he first entered the house. Returning his gaze back to her stomach, Ryan moved down to his knees so that he could kiss her stomach right above her belly button. This is why Marcos had asked if he would want a child with Berlyn -- because Marcos already knew that Berlyn was pregnant.

"How soon?" Ryan asked for the second time that day.

"About six months. Veronica and I are more or less at the same stage in pregnancy, so we're sure it happened the weekend of the wedding."

"Then I guess we have time to move you in with me and fix a room for the baby, doesn't it?"

Berlyn could only grin as Ryan got back to his feet and kissed her, backed up by everything he felt for her. The past four months had been hell for him, thinking Berlyn was gone forever. Today had been a double-bonus; not only was Berlyn still alive, but she was having his baby. He mentioned to her that he wanted to pinch himself and make sure this was real, and he soon after felt a sting on his side.

"Hey, I was speaking metaphorically," he laughed. Berlyn laughed with him, and Ryan couldn't believe how good it felt to see her smile again. They joined the family outside where -- surprise, surprise -- a plate of food was pushed in front of them right away. Despite his earlier reaction, Ryan could now only watch Berlyn laugh and glow and feel his heart swell.

Berlyn caught him staring and leaned in to kiss him, whispering how much she had missed him while they were apart. He returned the sentiment and kissed her again. They returned to the family's conversation with Ryan's arm protectively around Berlyn's shoulders while she rested her head on his own shoulder.

------

Berlyn woke the next morning to see the curtains blowing in on a light breeze through an open window. The sun was bringing in golden rays, warming her face and body. She smiled, remembering who was next to her and rolled over. Ryan smiled back at her, already awake.

"How long have you been awake?" she asked.

"A few minutes," Ryan replied, brushing his fingers across her cheek. "Berlyn, I want you to tell me about the cocaine. How it got started, why you did it, why you went back to it."

Berlyn's expression turned somber. "Ryan, the coke is over."

"I know it is, baby, but I need you to talk to me about this. Please."

Berlyn sighed and wiped a tear from her cheek. "Travis got me started. It was just supposed to be a one time deal, you know, just trying it. Things were good with Travis then, so I just did it for fun. I didn't seek it out, but if he offered a couple lines, I would accept it. After awhile, I was starting to feel like I needed it every now and then, so I quit for a long time. It wasn't hard to quit that first time. Then things with Travis got bad. The first time we got in a really huge fight, I found his dealer and just bought enough for a day-long binge. It made everything go away, and that was that. I would go and go for months at a time, then I would come home and realize that I could be okay without it, I just needed my family. I'd be clean for a few months, and something with Travis would happen again. The first time he hit me was the worst. About a month before Ellen died was the last time I did it; I wanted to, very badly when I found out about her, saw the pictures. I had an idea before then, but those pictures were confirmation. Then she was killed, and I couldn't go back to it."

Ryan pulled her close and kissed her forehead. "I'm glad you're not going back. And I'm proud of you for making it through."

"I thought about you every day. I wanted to call you just once. Even if it was to listen to your voicemail, I just wanted to hear your voice. I wanted to hear you tell me it would be okay and I would be safe, like you used to before I went away. I knew I couldn't though; Travis needed to be put away, and that wasn't going to happen while I was around."

"Everything _is_ okay, and you _are_ safe, Berlyn. He can't hurt you anymore."

Berlyn only smiled at him, again fighting the urge to share those three words with him. It was strange that months away from each other had made them grow stronger; so rarely does absence truly manufacture fondness in the heart. Still, she didn't want to say the words until she heard them from Ryan.

"Want to tell me what you're thinking?" Ryan inquired.

"No, I don't think I do just yet," Berlyn smiled back. Ryan opened his mouth to protest, but Marcos ducked his head into the room before he could say anything.

"Hey, Ryan, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Yeah, sure." Ryan climbed out from under the covers and joined Marcos at the door.

"Everything all right, Marcos?" Berlyn asked, sitting up.

"Everything's fine, Lyn. I'll send him back to you in just a minute." Marcos shut the door behind them and moved down the hall a bit so that Berlyn couldn't hear.

"Are you sure everything's okay?" Ryan asked.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Grandma wants to have a surprise baby shower for the girls, and decided today is the day. Our job is to take the girls out for the day so that they can get ready around here."

Ryan nodded. "Berlyn will love it. I'll make sure she gets up and ready now and then tell her the four of us are going out."

"Perfect. See you soon."

--

It took Ryan several minutes, but he did manage to get his girlfriend up and around. She got in the shower and had just stepped under the water when he joined her. She turned around and jumped a little, not expecting him.

"Ryan, you scared me," she breathed, accepting his kiss.

"I'm sorry," he smiled. Berlyn turned back to the water, smiling as well, and he wrapped one arm around her from behind, running the other one over her stomach to feel the protrusion.

"You should have seen the look on my grandfather's face," Berlyn laughed. "I don't know if he was more surprised to see me or to see me pregnant."

"You certainly had us all in one sad state," Ryan confessed. "I know it was only a few weeks, Berlyn, but when you were gone, I felt like my world was crashing down around me."

Berlyn turned to face him. "I know, Ryan. I hope you know how lost I was without you. Rehab was a difficult time, and not having you around to support me was the worst. Not having anyone at all from my friend and family really topped it off. Horatio though, he would check in with me, make sure everything was okay. He's a good man."

Ryan nodded in agreement. "He most certainly is. I'll never be able to thank him for keeping you safe."

"I wanted to tell you before you left Mexico, but I couldn't."

"That's why you were so upset," Ryan replied, suddenly realizing what had her in tears that day.

Berlyn nodded and shampooed her hair, then rinsed it. They finished washing up and stepped out of the shower, and proceeded to get ready for their outing. Before the went downstairs to meet Marcos and Veronica, Berlyn stopped Ryan and just hugged him, for all she was worth.

"Hey, what's that for?" Ryan asked, returning the embrace. "I mean, I'm not complaining, but are you okay?"

Berlyn smiled. "I'm more than okay. Just more of what I was thinking earlier that I can't tell you yet."

Ryan gave her a sly look as she walked in front of him to the kitchen where her family was waiting. They ate a quick breakfast and then were off, all the while with Ryan still badgering her about what she was thinking. Berlyn refused to give.

--

"I'm so tired," Veronica sighed when they returned to the house. Under the careful watch of Marcos and Ryan, the two girls had completed a busy day of shopping. Although the men were anxious to be doing other things, their two pregnant women were top priority. Most of the shopping was for maternity clothes or things for the babies, and Marcos whispered to Ryan that by the end of the day, there would be no need for a baby shower.

"No kidding. In my line of work, we call this overkill," Ryan chuckled. Berlyn turned to him with a fist on her hip, and Veronica gave her a husband a "don't make me ..." look.

"Excuse me, boys," Berlyn told them sternly. "This is my first child, and don't you dare ruin the experience for me."

Ryan held up his hands defensively, and Marcos subdued his wife with a kiss on the forehead and a credit card in her pocket. Both girls were happy campers at that point, and continued shopping. Once back at the house, they wondered together why so many cars were around. Ryan and Marcos walked behind the girls because they were having trouble keeping a straight face. All of the shopping bags were set down right inside the door and the girls plopped down on the couch.

"Hey, you're not going to come see what's up?" Marcos asked, pointing to the backyard.

Veronica waved him away. "If they want to see us, let them find us."

"I agree," Berlyn concurred with a nod. Marcos led Veronica out by the hand, but Berlyn refused to move, so Ryan picked her up and carried her.

"Trust me, you don't want to miss this." Once they were in the backyard, Ryan set her down, and watched her expression. Her eyes were wide with wonder, and there was a large smile on her face. Pastel-colored balloons littered the yard and table, there was enough food to feed an army, and all sorts of friends and family had come to join the celebration.

"You know?" Berlyn asked.

"I knew," Ryan smiled. She kissed him soundly before being ushered off by the other women.

–

Berlyn was watching out from the balcony of the room she shared with Ryan, letting the wind blow through her hair and enjoying the warmth of the breeze. She was still contemplating these feelings she had for Ryan. She wanted to wait for the baby to be here, to make sure it wasn't hormones, but something in her heart told her the emotions she was experiencing weren't chemical.

Ryan watched her for a few minutes after bidding Marcos goodbye. He had come up to the room, worried at first when he didn't see her, until he notice the wind blowing the balcony curtains in to the room. She looked content, the stirrings within her not showing on her countenance at all. He smiled, knowing that this was the girl meant for him. He had realized earlier in the day, spending time with Marcos and Veronica, that he wanted permanency, and he only wanted it with Berlyn. He had pictured them growing old together, and like the image very much. He knew the feeling wasn't going to go away. Berlyn jumped only a little when he hugged her from behind. She leaned her head back against his chest and smiled.

"I love you," Ryan whispered. Berlyn spun around in his arms so fast, she almost fell. Ryan held her upright while her big eyes looked at his for any signs he would falter in this latest confession.

"I've been thinking about you like that all day," Berlyn told him. "When you were trying to get me to tell you? That's what it was. We were only together for a few weeks, then four months went by without each other, not even a word. What if we only feel this way because of the excitement?"

Ryan shook his head. "I was loving you when I thought you weren't coming back, Berlyn."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. We were supposed to be together, that's just how it is."

"I think so. Ryan?"

"Yes, baby?"

"I love you, too."

Ryan smiled, feeling his heart swell to hear her say the words, and, despite her hesitation, know that she meant them.

_A/N: Ryan and Berlyn, booking a flight for happily-ever-after. LOL. One more chapter after this, just to sum things up! I have the first two chapters of my next story written, and some of the third chapter, so I think that I'm going to go ahead and post it, even though I was originally going to wait for it to be completely done. It's title "Something That Never Comes" – please check it out! _

_Thanks for all the reviews and for reading!_


	11. Chapter 11

The next six months flew by in a blur of activity. Berlyn moved all of her things into Ryan's place, and they started setting up the baby's room. By the time that Berlyn felt like she was ready to pop, the house was settled. The couple was also settled, into a normal, everyday routine. Ryan came home one night to find a very tense looking Berlyn sitting on the couch.

"What's wrong? You feeling okay?" he asked. His face filled with concern for Berlyn and the baby.

"I'm fine. Veronica had a little boy today," Berlyn announced, and Ryan knew why she was upset. He set all of his things down right in front of the door and went to comfort her. Berlyn accepted his embrace, burying his face in her chest.

"I'm sure Marcos is very happy, and you should be, too. Our baby will be here any day."

"I'm already five days past my due date, Ryan!"

"I know, and I know you're frustrated, but the baby will come soon. You just have to be patient."

Berlyn nodded and pulled away. "Supper's in the stove, keeping warm. Want me to make you a plate?"

Ryan smiled, watching her waddle to the kitchen. "Baby, why don't you sit down and I will make you a plate, okay?"

Berlyn smiled at him graciously and waited to eat until he was sat down with his plate also. She loved that he came home and ate with her every night, and that she really belonged with a man somewhere they called _their_ home. She was dwelling on that thought when Ryan interrupted her thinking.

"What did Marcos and Veronica name the baby?"

"Hugo Andres, after both grandfathers. Seven pounds, twenty inches."

"Everything with the labor went okay?"

"Yes. Had her in about fifteen hours, I think."

Ryan noticed that she was still upset. "Berlyn, you know that I plan on marrying you after this baby is born, don't you? Is that what's really bothering you, that Marcos and Veronica are somehow more of a family because they're married?"

Berlyn looked at him with tears in her eyes and nodded. "I didn't know, actually. Things have just been so crazy in this relationship, Ryan. I didn't want to ask because I don't want to put that kind of pressure on you, but I do feel like we're missing out a little."

Ryan put down his fork and used the same hand to pull his girlfriend's face toward him and kissed her. "You and I and this baby are already a family. I love you, you love me, and we love the baby. That's all that matters."

"Thank you, Ryan," Berlyn whispered, falling more in love with him every second.

"No more feeling bad, you hear? That baby will be here before you know it."

If Ryan had known the truth in his words, he might not have spoke with such confidence. Berlyn woke him up at 2:30 the next morning when her water broke. Bags were already packed for Berlyn and the baby, so Ryan threw on jeans and a t-shirt and they rushed for the hospital. It took awhile to get Berlyn settled in to a bed, and by the time she was in a room and Ryan joined her, the contractions were hitting her hard.

"Hey baby," Ryan greeted softly. Her took her hand and winced in pain when she squeezed it so hard.

"I could kill you for doing this to me right now," Berlyn told him through clenched teeth.

"Might I remind you that it takes two?" Ryan smiled. Berlyn's eyes shot open and she glared at him.

"Not at the current moment in time, you can't."

Ryan gave in, and waited for the contraction to be over. Once it finally subsided, she was in much better spirits, although she was asking for an epidural as soon as possible. Ryan took the chance to call to Mexico and inform them of the news.

"She's in labor," Ryan announced when Carmen answered the phone.

"Oh, my goodness! How far along?"

"Well, her water broke about an hour ago, and they say she's about four centimeters. Her contractions are getting intense, so they're going to give her an epidural soon."

"I will tell the family. You stay with her."

"You know I will. I'll call you when the baby is here." Ryan flipped his phone shut just in time for Berlyn's next contraction.

--

"Come on, Berlyn, you can do this," Ryan coached. "We can see the top of the head."

Berlyn took a deep breath and pushed again. Her seventeen hour labor was coming to an end, and she was definitely ready for it to be over. She was never a big fan of pain to begin with, and the epidural had only taken the edge off. After a long count to ten, she rested again.

"The head is out," the doctor announced. He was a burly, gray-haired man, with a gentle hand with his patients. Berlyn loved him. "If we get a couple more good pushes, we will know if this kid's a boy or a girl."

"Are you ready?" Ryan asked, holding tightly to her hand. Berlyn nodded, and set in to the push. It took that and one more to get the baby out, and when the little girl came out crying, Berlyn breathed a sigh of relief.

"Congratulations on your son," the doctor smiled before taking the baby to be cleaned up and weighed and all of that.

"A girl, Berlyn, we have a little girl," Ryan gushed. Berlyn smiled, although a tired smile, and kissed him. When the nurse placed the baby, wrapped snugly in a blanket, in Ryan's arms about thirty minutes later, Berlyn knew immediately that she would be a daddy's girl.

"She looks like you," he smiled, handing the child over to her mother. Berlyn brushed the face of her daughter, and thought of a million things she wanted to teach her, but right then, none of them mattered. Their family was started, and with all the love in the world.

"Does she have a name?" the nurse asked. Berlyn looked at Ryan, worried.

"Aurelia Carmen," Ryan told the nurse confidently. The woman scurried off to give the information to the right people for the birth certificate, and Ryan sat on the bed next to his girls.

"Ryan, that's not the name you wanted," Berlyn told him.

"I know, but seeing her actually here … that's the right name for her."

Berlyn smiled and thanked him. There was a knock at the door and both parents looked up to find Horatio Caine standing in the doorway of the hospital room.

"I hear we have a new little girl in town," he smiled. Berlyn smiled and lifted Aurelia for him to hold. Horatio carefully took her from her mother and smiled down at the sleeping baby.

"Six pounds, five ounces. Nineteen inches," Berlyn informed him. "Not quite as big as her cousin."

"Well, with you two as parents, I'm sure she'll be a handful nonetheless," Horatio teased.

Ryan smiled along with him. "We want you to be her godfather."

"Are you sure?"

Berlyn nodded. "You have taken such great care of us, Horatio, and we know that if, God forbid, anything would happen to us and we couldn't take care of her, you would be there in an instant."

Horatio smiled. "Then let me say I couldn't be prouder to call anyone else my goddaughter."

_A/N: That's wrap, folks! This story was so much fun to write. I really love these characters, even though they're not all mine. I am thinking about possibly doing a sequel to this story after I complete my current story, but I'm not exactly sure of the plot yet, so we'll see. _

_Thanks to everyone who read, but special thanks to those who reviewed: **Emersyn, Millenium'sPharoah, Sarabear08, drslinkyblue1, StokesSandersSpeedle, brainDamage089, Carline, aweena, and Ebony Falcon. **Reviews are what keeps me going, so thanks so much, you guys!_

_And, I have to add in the shameless plug … Something That Never Comes is up and going, so check it out!_

_Thanks again, everyone!_


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